


The Paths Diverge

by Natasja



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Harry Potter, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Harry gets a decent childhood, In case it looks familiar, Infusion of common sense, Muggle-born Pride, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Other, imported from fanfiction.net, the wizarding world is insane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasja/pseuds/Natasja
Summary: Because there was NO POSSIBLE WAY that leaving a toddler on the doorstep in November could EVER go wrong...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a discussion on a VENOM thread at Fiction Alley Park, and by Lucinda's collection 'Pottery Shards'. There are heaps of stories where something changes during Harry's years with the Dursleys, but what if things went wrong from the start. Virtual cookies for anyone who feels like pointing out all of the other ways leaving a baby on the front porch in a UK winter was a bloody stupid idea.

For once, a long flight delay was a good thing, even if it hadn't seemed so at the time.

In this instance, a six-hour-delay was the reason that Natasja Rose was driving through Little Whinging at one in the morning, grumbling to herself about stupid excuses. Yes, she admitted to having made up some pretty out-there reasoning in her life (usually to explain a lack of homework – her art teacher had been convinced that Natasja's dog was some weird breed that lived off paper instead of dog food), but being delayed by a shower of shooting stars?

It was probably just some computer-savvy idiot who belatedly realized that they had missed Halloween and decided to make up for it by a particularly large prank.

As it was, Natasja was relying on caffine and large amounts of sugar to keep her awake until she reached a motel of some kind. Or anywhere that would allow her to catch a few hours of sleep before she met the real estate agent to sign ownership papers in the morning. She was jolted back to full awareness quite suddenly when she slammed on the breaks, put the car in park, and ran to the other side of the road, where an infant was determinedly starting to make their way across, trailing a small blanket.

Deciding that visiting the police and lodging a furious complaint could wait for an hour or two, at least until she got the baby warmed up, Natasja swept him into her arms, ignoring the crinkle of paper as she re-wrapped the blanket around him. The poor boy was freezing cold, and snuggled into her. Thanking whoever might be listening that she was wearing a coat with a zipper, Natasja wrapped him inside it. Her foot brushed against something, but it was only a bit of paper, so she ignored it in favour of getting back into the car, where it was warm.

Honestly, who left a baby outside in November? The weather was cold enough that an adult could have died from exposure, never mind a baby! He was clearly old enough to walk, and therefore wander off! What were his parents or guardians thinking? If someone had gotten it into their head to act out some fairytale where the future hero is abandoned at a stranger's doorstep (suburbia couldn't really be considered a forest of mountainside), there was going to be trouble.

Resigning herself to a sleepless night, Natasja cradled the Baby in one arm and pulled out the road directory with the other, awkwardly trying to locate a police station.

Whatever the reason for this whole fiasco, the people responsible for leaving a child on a doorstep in the middle of the night were going to pay! Halloween pranks, belated or otherwise, were one thing, but this! Suffice to say, Natasja did not find it amusing.

* * *

The constables didn't find it amusing, either, and Natasja very carefully didn't hear a rookie ask a superior about letting the culprits resist arrest. Another was grumbling about the number of complaints they had received about people acting strangely, or celebrating Halloween a day late, and the number who had gone away for the weekend as a result. If the baby had been left on a doorstep, who knew if the occupants were even home?

The emergency medic was downright furious when they explained it to him, ranting about exposure and how the baby could have frozen to death if Natasja hadn't found him. As it was, he was suffering from mild frostbite, exposure, and would be spending at least a few days at the paediatrics IC ward.

The only good part was when they examined the baby's pajamas, with the name 'Harry' carefully stitched into the collar, and the blanket, which had a family crest, complete with motto, embroidered at the corners. A quick search revealed that it was the crest of the Potter family, but that the only Potters on record likely to have it stitched onto a baby blanket were an elderly couple, whose only children were teenagers.

Natasja would need to remain available for questioning for at least a few weeks, but since her new job as Administration Staff and part-time Invigilator at a nearby Tertiary Institute didn't start until the New Year, that wasn't a problem.

* * *

Actually, it turned out to be something of a good thing, as Children's Services had been overwhelmed with terrorist attacks from the past few years, and someone willing to assume even temporary care, after a background check and meeting the necessary qualifications for foster care, was a blessing.

Her new house wasn't far from the Station, either, which certainly made things easier for everyone. After a quick trip to a second-hand store for a cot, high-chair, clothing and toys, then the local shops for baby supplies and food, Natasja was carrying Harry into her new, two-bedroom-plus-study house.

" _Welcome home, Harry Potter."_

 


	2. Chapter Two

Natasja was visiting the Station with an update on how Harry was faring (Nightmares from which he woke screaming about his parents and green light, but they were happening with less and less frequency) and if there was any further news on the investigation, when she met Henry Irons for the first time.

A police rookie who had apparently been on bereavement leave, having been transferred from some other borough and therefore having the freshest gossip from old contacts, Henry entered for the start of his shift, grinning like a lunatic and clearly far too cheerful for an early Monday morning. Questioning by his mates revealed that something had happened to get some organization called the 'MLE' who occasionally worked with the police and armed forces in an uproar.

Apparently, the organization was about as popular as a hard-core Christian Missionary at a Pastafarian get-together, and the two departments got along about as well. The MLE also tended to have very condescending attitudes, so the general consensus was the hope that it got worse before it got better, as long as it didn't involve their station.

Natasha shook her head and left again, wondering if the Police Office was a strange place to start making friends.

* * *

For the first few months, things were perfectly normal. The adoption papers had gone through quickly after no-one tried to show up and claim Harry after three months, though Natasja had decided to let him keep the surname 'Potter' until he was old enough to decide for himself if he wanted to change it.

There were a few strange incidents, where Harry managed to get hold of a bottle or toy that Natasja was _sure_ had been placed well out of reach, but she simply put it down to Harry being fast and an excellent climber, as she certainly had been at that age, and installed child barriers and locks.

Otherwise, Harry was progressing well, with few ill effects from the trauma of that November night, and things were going well. One of the neighbours, Mrs Creevy, whose husband was the local milkman, had also just had a baby, and was perfectly willing to not only help Natasja muddle through being a new mother, but also babysit on occasion. Little Colin was as cute as a button, and it was nice to have someone who shared her outrage on Harry's situation (Natasja didn't know how the overly-chatty police secretary was still employed, but suspected that it was due to a lack of court-admissible proof), rather than looking for gossip.

There had been one fiasco shortly after Harry's official adoption by Natasja, when the boy was a year and a half, (going by the assumption that he had been about fifteen months when he was found wandering), causing Natasja to hope that this kind of frequent misfortune wasn't a portent of what Harry's life would be like. An old man, dressed as though he had become lost on his way to a Dungeons and Dragons convention, had appeared out of nowhere in the living room, with only a small _pop_ to announce him. Natasja had grabbed Harry and hit the speed dial for the station as he tried to explain himself.

Unfortunately, the explanation had consisted of the old man introducing himself as being the Headmaster of some place called Hogwarts, and a bunch of obviously made-up titles, and insisting that she should let him take Harry away to his aunt's house, purely because it was for the 'Greater Good'. And because apparently there were 'blood wards' that would keep him safe there. Because they were related to his mother, and something about a sacrifice, which only made Natasja even more determined to keep Harry away from the loon.

Natasja had demanded to know which Asylum he had escaped from, but was ignored as irrelevant. Apparently, she should also do what he said without question, because he was Headmaster and Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, and therefore knew best. Regardless of whose basic rights, well-being, or personal happiness got trampled in the process.

Natasja had never liked that vase, and felt perfectly justified in throwing it at his head, moments before the police barged in and tackled him.

* * *

Nothing came of it, however, as none of the mad-houses reported any escapees and the only records of a 'Dumbledore' was one Ariana Dumbledore, who had been the victim of a gang-assault in the late eighteen-hundreds. Things were only confused further when the very baffled psyche ward officials at the hospital reported that the old man somehow managed to escape from a heavily –guarded room without detection from either guard or online visual security. He had been there one moment – and then he wasn't.

Still, the old man was on record as having been charged, so they would know if he turned up again.

Henry, who had not been part of the police who had arrested the old lunatic, showed up for an informal visit a few days later, right as Natasja was trying to convince herself that Harry had _not_ just made his toy stuffed aeroplane _fly_ across the room with enough force to hit the ceiling fan. Trying to think up a plausible excuse was put on hold when Henry sat down to give her an explanation that made her head hurt more than the flying aeroplane had.

Henry was what was known as a 'Muggle-Born' wizard (which Natasja thought was stupid: either someone was magical, or they weren't, and there was no need to bring name-calling into it), and that no matter how crazy Dumbledore had sounded, he actually was the Headmaster of a place called Hogwarts, a school that Henry had attended, but not been happy at. There had apparently been no small amount of prejudice, due to some trouble brewing, headed by a 'Dark Wizard' who thought that anyone who couldn't trace their family through at least three generations of witches and wizards didn't deserve to live.

Being the only magical person in his family, Henry had not been looked upon as worthy, especially when he tended to outscore the 'Purebloods' who thought that family connections and ancestry were enough to get them through. Apparently, the teachers disagreed with that assumption, and the Purebloods took it out on those who dared to be better than them, whether in academics or just popularity.

As Henry was not a Gryffindor, protected and promoted by the Headmaster, or noteworthy enough for Professor Slughorn, his own Head of House, to take interest, Henry had stuck it out long enough to finish school, then decided that with the brewing trouble, the Muggle world could use him far more than a corrupt and bigoted Ministry would. He had left the Wizarding World, done a Fast-Track course to catch up on various aspects of Muggle education, and joined the police academy.

Well, that answered a few questions, but raised even more. "OK, I understand needing to remain a secret, and old people letting power go to their heads, but what does this have to do with Harry?"

Henry leaned back in his chair. "I talked to some old classmates, and it seems that Harry somehow brought down the Dark Lord." He caught her incredulous raised eyebrow. "I know, I had trouble with that too, especially since no-one seems to have a clear view of what actually happened. But, it's turned Harry here into a celebrity, and Dumbledore apparently wants him squirrelled away somewhere safe. The Hogwarts Gamekeeper can't keep his mouth shut, especially after a few drinks, and said that Lily Potter sacrificing herself for her son meant that he would only be safe where his mother's blood dwells."

Natasja had even more trouble with that. "Because of course Lily Potter was the only parent who died trying to save their child." That could be wondered about later, as something occurred to her. "I have a question: Just how closely related does Harry's 'mother's blood' need to be for this to work?"

Henry frowned. "No idea, it would depend on the type of ward and how strong you needed it to be. Wards are a more specialized area of study that I never went into. Why?"

That could be useful. "There's this thing called the Law of Inheritance. Essentially, one person has two children, and each of them has two children, and each of them has two children… after a few generations, you've got about a hundred people all related to each other. More, if you had more than two children, or multiple marriages. For example, within three generations, I have twenty-four people blood-related to me, not counting second-cousins and assorted partners. My grandfather had six brothers and sisters. A quick search of the maternal side of Harry's family tree could turn up plenty of options."

Henry looked distinctly cheered. "That would probably work. Be one in the Old Coot's eye, as well. Another Muggle-Born friend of mine went on to study genealogy, and has the hobby of digging up Muggles and Squibs in Pureblood family trees. I'll see if I can get hold of him."

Natasja smiled, re-filling the tea-cups. "I can't say I disagree, but you really don't like this Dumbledore person, do you?"

Henry shrugged. "A Headmaster who sits back and smiles while his students are bullied or abused, and doesn't intervene unless one of his favourites are involved. A Ministry who, with a few exceptions, are more interested in taking bribes and preserving the Status Quo than doing their jobs and upholding the law. I have old friends that I keep in contact with, but no, I don't like Dumbledore, or the Wizarding World."

* * *

The hunch paid off. Henry's friend had jumped at the chance to put a spoke in Dumbledore's wheel, and annoy the Purebloods in the process. Two weeks later, he got back to them with a very, very long list of Harry's maternal relatives, and the news that Lily Potter (nee Evans) and Natasja Rose shared a mutual Great-Great-Grandmother. Five degrees of separation, true, and a standing shared by at least a hundred others, but still maternal blood.

Whatever 'Blood Wards' protected Harry would be just fine, and he would grow up with people who loved him, rather than (probably) resented having him dropped on their doorstep without warning, like a bottle of sour milk.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore apparently didn't get the memo, as he tried again a week or so later, via a sallow-looking man who had apparently not been introduced to the concept of shampoo or basic manners while in someone else's home, and informed her that he was there to retrieve the 'Potter brat' on behalf of Dumbledore.

If the name Dumbledore hadn't been enough to turn her off, calling Harry the "Potter Brat", certainly would have. As if she was letting someone who clearly hated children within arms-reach of her new son! The wizard had come away with a broken wand, second degree burns and a concussion.

As the irate woman had pointed out to Henry, who had come to investigate (having called in another favour to set up some basic alert wards, along with the Blood Protection ones), and arrived just as Snape hit the floor, wizards might have wands, but Natasja had a cast iron skillet, and had been cooking breakfast at the time.

She did regret the waste of a good omelette (read: one that didn't look more like scrambled eggs than an omelette), but hoped that Dumbledore had the guts to show up himself next time, so she could belt him a good one, too. An old man taking this much interest in a child's life when they weren't even a doting Great-Grandparent couldn't be healthy.

Henry had asked if she was free to go out for lunch sometime.

* * *

Thankfully, that had been the end of it, after a letter from the MLE and a visit from one of their officials, whose arrival had been heralded by children shrieking about the bogey man (the school was having a field-trip), two days after the encounter with Snape.

After her initial thought that someone so badly scarred, with a missing leg and eye, should probably be retired on medical reasons, Natasja started to defend her actions, but was cut off when the official informed her that he had been told to investigate an unprovoked assault, but had come to the conclusion that it was the clearest-cut case of self-defence he had ever seen.

Given that he hadn't been there five minutes and Natasja had barely had the chance to open her mouth, much less present her side of things, it left the impression that she could have committed cold-blooded murder, and most of the MLE still would have called it self-defence. This impression was re-enforced when the official's trainee, a tall, dark-skinned man with a booming voice, muttered that it couldn't have happened to a more deserving individual.

Natasja decided that she would need to keep an eye on the magical world. Harry was clearly some kind of celebrity there, and as much as she wished that they would leave her alone, that clearly wasn't going to happen any time soon. Best to be prepared.

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

Petunia Dursley was known to everyone living in a ten-mile radius, including Henry and most of the police station, as a horrible gossip, so Natasja was honestly surprised that it had taken Petunia Dursley this long (just over six months) to invite herself over. Most self-inviting guests at least brought along a casserole or similar as a "Welcome-to-the-neighbourhood-here's-something-for-dinner-so-you-don't-have-a-convinient-excuse-to-get-rid-of-us-while-we-pry-your-life-story-out-of-you", but not so with this one.

Petunia brought herself and her own young son, introduced him as the finest boy in the world, (Particularly inadvisable when talking to new mothers, who tend to reserve that title for their own children) and set him down, handing him one of Harry's toys without even asking. She didn't bother to apologize when Dudley knocked over a table holding the urn containing her sister's ashes, a family portrait and a new picture of herself and Harry (luckily, a stack of cushions that had been a gift that she was still trying to decide what to do with softened the fall) as he made a beeline for the sweet jar on the kitchen table, nor did she make any effort to deal with the epic tantrum when the boy encountered the child-proof doors. She did, however, look on the verge of protesting when Natasja firmly placed Dudley in the play-pen, handed him a plush puppy, and picked Harry up, but thankfully refrained.

Not five minutes into an uninvited visit, and Natasja was already trying to think of a reason to kick them out.

The feeling intensified when Petunia sat down, picked up Natasja's teacup, rather than wait for Natasja to pour her a new one, and started talking about her low opinion of single mothers, strangers, and women in any profession other than stay-at-home mother and housewife.

Natasja wondered if Mrs Dursley noticed that her host was all three of those things, gritted her teeth, and yanked the subject back to safer topics such as the latest fashions and the quality of education in today's schools.

Petunia reminded Natasja of one of her aunts back home; bearable over the phone (where she couldn't see you doing something else while rolling your eyes and largely ignoring her as she nattered on) and in very small doses, as long as you avoided certain topics. Natasja knew there was a reason that her cousins preferred to spend most of Christmas day with their in-laws.

Even small doses of Mrs Dursley, however, quickly wore a person out, and Natasja was forced to 'remember' a visit to the doctor to make sure that Harry wasn't suffering any lasting effects from before she had adopted him. She didn't mention details, both because she didn't want it spread all over the neighbourhood, and because vague generalities were so much more effective than exact descriptions.

Still, that turned out to be a good thing, as the very hint that her precious 'Duddykins' might be exposed to something had Mrs Dursley out of the door like a shot. And without so much as a 'thank-you', but Natasja wasn't about to complain. Petunia was leaving and hopefully wouldn't be returning for a while, so Natasja wasn't about to call her back for something as simple as lack of a proper good-bye.

Really, though, "Good-bye" was probably everyone's favourite phrase from Mrs Dursley's lips.

Natasja waited until the door had slammed behind them, glad that the appointment to make sure that Harry was in good health and completely recovered from his brush with exposure had been yesterday, and then put Harry down for his nap and went searching for the aspirin.

Something told her that being a rude, over-opinionated, nosy, gossiping shrew was not an adequate reason for a restraining order, regardless of whether or not most of the Bobbies agreed with you, or most of the local community would have tried it years ago.

* * *

Harry had been a lot more interested in the wrapping paper on his Birthday presents than the gifts themselves, but spent days lugging around his new stuffed dragon, enchanted to roar whenever Harry yelled "Charge!"

Natasja had _known_ that letting the Police Sargent come over for tea and to tell Harry a nap-time tales when he was off-duty was a bad idea, even if the older man _did_ have a gift for storytelling. Unfortunately, all of his tales seemed to be slightly-veiled recounting of various work-related incidents.

Henry had been smart enough to side with his new girlfriend and not laugh, but the rest of the station, especially those who had children and had gone through the same thing, thought it was hysterically funny. Natasja supposed that she should be grateful that, despite the station's best efforts, Harry's first string of words was "Mama, no naptime!" and not "Freeze, Police!"

Voicing that opinion to Henry, when "More 'Cots, please" (ironically, very similar to some of Natasja's first sentences, when she had refused to eat much aside from apricots)and "Drop your weapons!" were Harry's second and third string of words, respectively, had resulted in gales of laughter and their first kiss.

* * *

Of course, it wasn't all fun and semi-peaceful. Dumbledore had apparently decided that enough time had passed after Snape's attempted abduction, and chose to try again.

Happily or unhappily, depending on who you asked, he fared no better than his lackey had. Chief Warlock or not, some pain pathways, generally taught as the first thing a girl should know about self-defense, are simply impossible to ignore. Furthermore, it is very hard to cast spells when a large marble rolling pin has just broken your wand arm, which was why Natasja had purchased it in addition to a plain wooden one, which she used for actual cooking.

Dumbledore responded with the inventive use of some words that Natasja had heard before, and which caused her to cover Harry's ears. Henry was grinning just a bit too widely as he dragged a limping Dumbledore back to the station, prompting the older wizard to add several words that Natasja _hadn't_ heard before, but was certainly going to keep in mind. She happily envisioned Dumbledore explaining this one to whoever he asked to mend his broken arm, especially as the medic at the station had probably already put it in a cast.

The incident, on top of the time they had spent dating, was also apparently enough for Henry to confirm that she was a goddess and the kind of woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. With Natasja and Harry still adjusting to their new lives, and having been dating only a few months, she told him to ask her again in a year.


	4. Chapter Four

Things had been going fairly peacefully (as peacefully as possible with an insatiably curious two-year-old around), and Harry was nearing his Third birthday.

Natasja knew that it couldn't last, and wondered if having someone intrude or attack during the fortnight surrounding Harry's birthday was some kind of ritual, as something always seemed to happen. Last year it had been Dumbledore's first attempt, trying to take Harry away for a completely idiotic reason. Now it was some random witch, who had become offended when Natasja had informed her to "Get out of my house before I kick your backside all the way to the North Pole," and pronounced herself a notorious Serial Killer and supporter of the Dark Lord, who would happily kill her baby just to teach Natasja a lesson.

The attempted murder didn't work out as the witch had probably expected. Since her previous two successes, Natasja had made a point of figuring out how to use everyday objects as weapons. As such, a witch unused to her non-magical victims putting up a fight, found herself facing off against a pissed off mother surrounded by an entire room of potential weapons.

The witch lost.

She ducked a meat-cleaver, and then straightened, only to dive to the side to avoid a bar-b-que scraper aimed at her throat. "Hey, watch it, you little – eek!"

The witch wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the toasting fork that pinned her wand hand to the wall, or the breadknife that barely missed her head. A baking sheet wasn't as effective as a pot or skillet, and required a few extra whacks, but since a toasting fork had temporarily caused her to drop her wand, it worked.

Unfortunately, the DMLE had been on the lookout for the Killer-Witch's magical signature, and she had managed to get one spell off, which had shattered the rosemary pot on the window sill when Natasja ducked, which brought them down like a ton of bricks. Actually, a ton of bricks that forgot to fall for about an hour, at which point Henry had discreetly snapped her wand, and confiscated any back-up escape items, and the station was already taking care of it.

For some reason, the DMLE didn't believe Henry when he insisted that, yes, a witch high up on the Ministry's " _Most Wanted"_ list had, in fact, been taken down by several well-aimed cooking implements. When he refused to change his story, the formidable Head of Department, Madam Amelia Bones, had decided to come over to question the Witch for her version of events. As it had been her day off, she had been forced to bring her niece with her.

This action had been met with an indignant "Do we _look_ like a day-care centre?" from the on-duty officers, who didn't like having the DMLE around in the first place. Unfortunately, the MLE didn't seem to care about the inconvenience of a three-year-old running underfoot in a building that happened to contain an armoury and the occasional criminal. (Harry was the exception, as he would pick a random officer, usually Henry, for the day, and stick close to them, and therefore out of trouble.) Fortunately, Natasja wasn't going anywhere that day, and a quick phone call provided relief, and Harry was spending the day with little Miss Susan Bones.

* * *

Natasja had been slightly reluctant to take Susan, after the events of that morning, but accepted in order to get the whole thing over with. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. After dosing the witch with some kind of truth-potion, and getting the same account that Henry had given, the MLE had come up with an idea that Natasja was convinced was just another bit of proof that most magical people were idiots.

Rather than accept that yes, it was possible for a Muggle to defend herself with no more than the contents of her kitchen, especially since it tended to be the last thing her attacker would expect. Despite the tales Henry had told of self-stirring cauldrons and such, and Natasja being the guardian of a magical child, the MLE decided that he must have enchanted the implements, and brought in someone from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department to check things over and decide how much Henry should be fined.

Natasja probably would have been a lot nicer if they had bothered to ask or tell her they were coming in advance, or if the person they sent, Mr Weasley, hadn't taken one look and declared "But you're a _Muggle_!" in the delighted tone of one seeing a particularly rare and fascinating zoo exhibit. He then spent nearly an hour grilling her about the function of perfectly ordinary items like cough syrup (honestly, it said 'cough syrup' on the label, didn't that make it obvious?), the telephone and her computer.

She could understand the computer, as they weren't exactly a household object, but enough of Natasja's marking had to go into an electronic database, and she didn't want to have to leave Harry alone for hours while she went into work every day to use the computer there. Even so, the constant questions about how most of her electrical possessions worked (did she _look_ like the local repairman?), and the comments such as "Muggles are so quaint, I simply don't know how you get along without Magic" and "Of course, a Pepper-Up Potion would be better, but I suppose you make do as best you can" (though in Natasja's opinion, a quick trip to the local Pharmacist and written directions was better than the hours it took to brew a pepper-up potion and trying to gauge how much to use by ear) started to get on her nerves very quickly.

Gritting her teeth at the condescending attitude (and starting to get a much better understanding of why Henry had left the Wizarding World as soon as possible) Natasja had endured it for another hour, before snapping when he tried to take a lamp apart to see how it worked. The lamp was a hand painted antique from mid-19th century Japan, a going-away gift from her father, and Natasja had been fixing Harry and Susan an afternoon snack, and was therefore too far away to do anything when the light bulb switched on and he dropped it in surprise. Barely resisting the urge to scream, and quickly putting the shattered pieces aside before Mr Weasley could just Vanish them, in the hope that Henry could repair it later, Natasja restrained herself to telling him to either finish his investigation or get out of her house.

She started fantasizing about using the fireplace poker as a demonstration of non-magical defense when Mr Weasley told her there was no need to be rude over a few harmless questions, and started poking around her kitchen instead. As Natasja knew for a fact that he had been told she had only used knives, a baking sheet and a toasting fork, which he had inspected and cleared with a few waves of his wand, she doubted that he really needed to examine the plug and cord of her toaster in such close detail.

Natasja's hand was starting to twitch toward a carving knife by the time Madam Bones arrived to pick up Susan, caught the near-homicidal glint in her eyes, and demanded to know why a simple investigation had taken nearly five hours. If Madam Bones hadn't been responsible for sending him there in the first place, forcing her to keep an eye on both him and two under-four-year-olds, Natasja would have actually hugged her.

* * *

Henry was surprised when he came by that evening, just as Natasja had finished giving Harry a bath and changing him into his pyjamas, and a simple "How was your day?" managed to have his girlfriend dissolving into tears. While Natasja tended to be very calm and self-composed, that also meant that on the odd occasion when she was driven past her limit, it tended to be worse than could be solved by a few tissues and a cup of calming tea.

"We were attacked, and instead of being able to just sit down and cuddle Harry for a few hours, I get dumped with another child who started crying when the toys didn't move, and a condescending jerk who was more interested in dismantling my house than actually doing his job! He smashed dad's vase, and nearly electrocuted himself of I don't know how many different occasions, and I had to spend more time making sure he didn't accidentally kill himself than keeping an eye on the kids! Half the time he didn't' even get the names right, and he's supposed to be the leading authority?"

Harry had been engrossed in his train set, but looked up at the sound of his mother crying, and ran over to climb onto the couch and hug her. Natasja settled him into her lap, holding her adopted son close as she tried to get herself under control and Henry tried to assess the damage.

That wasn't good. Arthur Weasley had always been obsessed with Muggles, which was why he had accepted the low-paying job in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, rather than the much more beneficial position in the Investigative sub-section of the DMLE. Still, Henry would have thought that the man would have the decency to confine his interest to his own home and Muggle Studies reference books, rather than practically ransacking a Muggle woman's home. Spotting the dustpan with the lamp shards, Henry quickly repaired it, and went back to being a sympathetic ear.

"I mean, the fact that I'm not magical does not give him the right to treat me as though I'm from some ancient community that has barely mastered the use of communication or of fire in cooking! It was like I was one of the refugees from a poverty-stricken country, like I barely spoke English and 'get along the best you can, I suppose'! I'm a properly-raised girl from a decent family, not some imbecile who barely knows how to function in everyday life! I – I – "

She burst into a fresh flood, and Henry winced as he pulled her into a hug, resolving to tell Mrs Creevy a highly-edited version of events first thing tomorrow morning. The Creevys sometimes dealt with a similar attitude because Mr Creevy was a milkman in a neighbourhood where most families boasted of being highly-ranked accountants, businessmen, or such. Natasja could use a talk with a friend who understood.

Sometimes, Henry wasn't sure who was worse. There were the Pureblood Bigots, who treated the Muggle Born like second-class citizens, and Muggles even lower, and that was bad enough. Then there were the "Progressive" pro-Muggle sort. While Henry supposed that most of them had good intentions, the patronizing attitude that most of them held probably did more damage than any amount of anti-Muggle insults or propaganda.

Arthur Weasley, in particular, had the habit of treating Muggles like small, adorable children not yet old enough to understand what was going on around them. There was a reason that, despite being the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department, (and despite the longstanding opinion of anyone with an actual Muggle background that he needed to be replaced by a Muggle Born or Half-Blood who actually knew what they were talking about) he was no longer allowed to deliver reports to Muggle Authorities. Honestly, Henry sometimes suspected that Arthur was so good at disenchanting Muggle items because he played around with them in his spare time, which, really, was the height of hypocrisy.

Actually… "I know what you mean. Weasley has a friendly sort of personality, but very limited social skills, and a tendency to cause trouble through misunderstandings. He's Head of his Department because no one else wanted the job, and if there had been any other choice or someone hadn't pulled favours, he probably would have been sacked after the accidental arrests."

That certainly caught her attention. "Accidental arrests."

Yet another person Mr Weasley had offended enough for them to be happy about the thought of any misfortune befalling him. Someone needed to sit down and have a talk with him about that, or maybe a quiet word to Madam Bones…

Henry had been one of the investigating officers during the incidents in question, and would probably never manage to forget it. "Some Ministry bigwig decided that the departments needed a crash course in whatever they were supposed to be doing. Arthur wasn't in the Muggle World for half an hour before he was being arrested for accosting a private citizen, meddling with public property with potential to cause a public disturbance, and deliberate racially-motivated harassment."

Natasja blinked, wiping her eyes and tossing the tissue in the bin. "How in the name of all things sacred did that happen?"

Henry had spent three hours trying to get the statements of eight very offended Muggles, the report of the non-magically-aware police officers who had been on scene and thought 'Muggles', 'felly tone', and 'eleictrikity' were some kind of code words, and had been seconds away from alerting MI-5. A discreet silencing spell that, while getting Arthur into a bit of trouble for refusing to answer questions and "disrespecting an officer of the law" by only mouthing words, was possibly the only thing that managed to stop him from breaking the statute of secrecy entirely.

As a result, Henry's recollection of the incident (and the two-day headache he suffered afterward) was very clear. "There were a few bizarre fashions going on at the time, and Arthur 'couldn't think of the best way to introduce himself', so he just caught a random passer-by by the arm. She didn't appreciate it, kicked him in the shin, and ran for a constable."

Natasja was starting to get an idea of where this was going, and bit back a smile, finding it very hard to be sympathetic. "The 'meddling with public property' was trying to take apart a fire hydrant or some such, I suppose?"

Henry grinned, relieved that she wasn't crying anymore. "Yes. In front of witnesses, too. Then he went up to a group of Oriental and Indian tourists, addressed them as Muggles and started questioning them much like you described earlier. They appreciated the constant questioning and condescending attitude even less than you did, and he only made matters worse by following them when they tried to just walk away."

Natasja let out a sigh and leaned against him. "Thanks for that, I needed a laugh. How are things on your end?"

Henry shrugged. "Shacklebolt reminded them of his report about Snape and the Skillet, and Dumbledore and the Rolling Pin, which gave us a bit of credence. Then Madam Bones came back with the news that nothing was enchanted, so there was nothing to charge me for. I think a couple of them were disappointed, since they've been trying to catch the woman for months, and there is no way this is going to remain secret forever, especially when the station lodge a complaint about the DMLE stirring up a fuss over nothing."

In Natasja's opinion, the semi-public embarrassment would serve them right, but she refrained from saying so, wanting to just get the entire thing out of her mind. Henry paused, then pulled something out of his pocket. "It probably isn't the best time, but I've been planning for today for weeks, even if those plans were shot to hell. A year ago, you asked me to wait, and you always insist that there is never an absolutely perfect moment for anything. So, I'm asking again: Will you marry me?"

Henry's original proposal speech had been a lot more flowery, and had the entire station either falling asleep or laughing when he tried to practice. Finally, the Sargent had given him some quiet advice, saying to just speak from the heart, and the words would come.

Apparently, it was good advice, as Natasja smiled and kissed him, forgoing her usual descriptiveness. "Yes."

 

 


	5. Chapter Five

Natasja and Henry had considered asking the Creevys to babysit Harry during their Honeymoon week, but that fell through when the Creevys said that they were also taking a holiday at the same time. The others at the station were taking slightly longer shifts to cover for Henry, so they were also out.

So, Harry came with them.

It was summer, so the small family took the chance to spend as much of their time outdoors as they could. Currently, they were spending the morning at Blackpool, and wandering along the pier. They had reached the end of the pier and were about to turn back when there was a splash and a child screaming in panic.

They rushed to the edge and saw a boy about Harry's age splashing in the water, barely staying afloat, as an old man shouted to him. "Come on, boy, you can save yourself!"

Not bothering to think about the ramblings of a crackpot, and leaving Henry to deal with him, Natasja told Harry to stay put and dove in after the child. She wasn't an Olympic swimmer, by any means, but her parents had made sure that all their children knew how to swim in all waters, and basic lifesaving. Luckily, the boy wasn't far from the edge, and she got to him in a few quick strokes. "Calm down, now. Just hang on to me, and we'll get you back on dry land in a jiffy."

There were ladders spaced along the pier, though slightly rusty or covered with seaweed or barnacles, so Natasja and the boy were quickly up again. Harry, who had remained where he was told, along with the empty picnic basket, hurried over, carrying the blanket. Natasja smiled at her son as she wrapped it around the shivering boy. "Good thinking, Harry. Now, just hang on in there, dear, and you'll be warm and dried off in no time."

Henry re-joined them, discreetly conjuring another blanket, which he wrapped around his wife. He was followed by a life-guard and a few police, who had been called by another concerned citizen. "Are you all right, love?"

Natasja smiled warmly, wishing they were in a private enough spot for him to cast a drying charm, but it couldn't be helped. The police asked a more pertinent question. "Do you know what happened here, Ma'am?"

Natasja and Harry shook their heads. "We were just walking when we heard screaming and saw him in the water."

The boy spoke up through chattering teeth. "M-my uncle p-p-pushed me off, sir. He s-said that I sh-should have sh-show signs of accidental m-magic by n-now, and th-this would enc-courage me. M-my family have been saying that for ages."

That did it. Harry was getting home-schooled by a Muggle Born when he was old enough. There was no way Natasja was letting her son into a world that practiced Child Endangerment as a matter of course! The police had no knowledge of magic, but that didn't mean that they were pleased with the explanation, either. "What's your name, son?"

The boy had mostly stopped shivering by now. "N-neville Longbottom, sir. I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Well, _Neville_ wasn't in trouble. His uncle, on the other hand… The policeman smiled. "Not at all, son. We just need to know so we can contact your family about this, just to let them know."

Natasja had been around policemen long enough to know that the slight emphasis on 'contact' usually meant 'arrest – and put them in the most unpleasant cell we have available'. She exchanged a look with her husband as Neville gave them the address of his house. Henry nodded and addressed the officers. "I'm Henry Irons, Little Whinging police. My family is staying in a hotel nearby, and my wife can take care of the boy while this gets sorted out, if you like. Best to get him looked after right away."

The officers nodded. "Much obliged to you. Mrs Irons, we'll contact you once we're finished."

Natasja nodded, lifting Neville onto her hip and taking Harry's hand. "You're welcome, Officer…" she looked at his badge, "Smith. Come on Harry, Neville, we'll go back to the hotel and wait there. You can show Neville some of your toys, and be friends for the day."

Being an invigilator meant a lot of practice at not showing how much you wanted to strangle someone who was being particularly difficult. Natasja managed to keep a warm smile on her face as she fixed the two boys hot chocolate and a snack, no matter how much she was seething inside. If she ever got her hands on Neville's family…!

* * *

Well, Mrs Longbottom was a bit too formidable (and a bit too good at staying out of reach) for Natasja to strangle her as she originally wanted, but that didn't mean that Natasja was any less upset. Henry would have been surprised if she had been calm about the issue, though that didn't stop him from pausing when he returned to the Hotel. It might sound cliché, but seeing his wife's flashing eyes, as she all but radiated Protective Wrath, was a very attractive sight.

"Who do you think you are, not letting me near my own grandson?"

"I'm the main reason that you still have a grandson! Did you know that his uncle pushed him off the pier, and he would have drowned if my family hadn't helped?"

"If he's anywhere near as good as his father, he would have been fine!"  
"He's a five-year-old boy, and I doubt that his father would thank you for making him childless! What other ways have you managed to nearly kill him so far?"

"How dare you accuse me – "

Officer Smith broke in at this point, drawing the attention of the two boys, who had been watching the confrontation, heads looking back and forth as though they were at a tennis match. "Ladies, if I may interrupt?"

Natasja drew a deep breath, shooting a final, vicious glare at the older lady. "Of course. How did the investigation go?"

Henry answered that, walking over to pick Harry up. Harry might not have been of his blood, but he was Henry's son in all ways that mattered, and the man was still having trouble with the discovery that someone would throw their great-nephew into the ocean just to make his display accidental magic. "Well, Mr Algie Longbottom is being held on charges of deliberate child endangerment and resisting arrest. Social Services are on their way, so I'm afraid Officer Smith needs to take young Neville back to the station for a bit."

Officer Smith levelled an unfriendly look at Neville's Grandmother. "You should come with us, madam. The case worker will probably have a few questions for you, as well."

Neville gave Natasja a nervous look, as if asking if he really had to go with the Officer and his grandmother. Natasja tried to look reassuring. "Go on, dear, I'm sure the officer will take good care of you."

Neville and Madam Longbottom followed the policeman out of the hotel room, the matriarch giving Natasja a final dark look over her shoulder. Once the door closed, Natasja sat down next to her husband and son. "What are the odds of the charges actually sticking?"

Henry frowned disapprovingly. "Not very high, I'm afraid. The Longbottoms are a very old family, with a lot of connections, and Madam Longbottom is intelligent enough that she probably alerted Aurors before she came. Anyone officially involved will probably be Obliviated before the day is out."

Natasja sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Harry is not going to Hogwarts. I won't let my son in a world where people think nothing of drowning a little boy just to see if he shows accidental magic."

Henry kissed her hair and held Harry closer. "Agreed, but we'll burn that bridge when we come to it."

 

 


	6. Chapter Six

Natasja wasn't exactly complaining about the situation, but it would be nice if they'd bothered to give her a bit of advanced warning.

As it turned out, Officer Smith had made his report about what had happened with Neville when someone from Children's Services had been visiting to collaborate on a different case. Relatively new to the job, and horrified that someone would accept without question that their brother (in-law? Cousin? Whatever) would throw a five-year-old off Blackpool pier on purpose, the CS worker had talked to one of their Higher-Ups. Said Higher-Up was a Squib, who had apparently gone through the same thing until he turned twelve, and it was plain that no Hogwarts letter would be coming. Accepting that the Magical World was not moving along as the Muggle World did, and that for once they were in a position to do something about it, the Squib had gone straight to the top.

No one in the Magical World paid any attention to Squibs who had left, so it was with a certain amount of glee that the news of what had happened, and that it was not an uncommon event, made it to the Prime Minister without anyone being Obliviated.

Like most decent and right-thinking people, the Prime Minister was horrified at the systematic abuse and child endangerment in the name of Family Appearances, and came down hard on the Ministry of Magic. Rumour was that the Queen herself had sent a very sharp note to Minister Fudge, demanding an explanation.

Natasja wasn't entirely clear on what happened after that, but it boiled down to keeping a much sharper eye on the treatment of children. A Bill was passed that essentially said that if a child was suspected to be a Squib, then visits would be set up with Muggle-Born parents or guardians (apparently, names appeared in the Hogwarts Record Book when a Magical child was born). If the child ended up being a Witch or Wizard after all, then good for them and they would at least have a grounding of how to operate in the Muggle World, which would, in turn, cut down on the number of necessary Obviations.

Either way, the Muggles involved wouldn't be blinded by the 'oh, but it's always been done this way' attitude that seemed so common among the Magical, and children had a way of blurting things out. If a potentially-Squib child was being dangled out of windows, thrown off piers or deliberately injured in the hope of prompting accidental magic, hopefully it would be found out, in which case further action would be taken.

Also, nearly all Squibs left for the Muggle World once they reached their majority, not wishing to stay amongst those who would judge and scorn them for something they couldn't help. As with those who did turn out to be Magical, this idea gave them a better grounding of how to interact with Muggles, and even formed friendships that could help them along the way.

As for the Muggle parents and guardians, they at least knew that Magic was real, that nothing was wrong with them or their children, and that there was an explanation behind all of the weird things that kept happening whenever their son or daughter was upset.

Natasja worried that they hadn't thought about how the more hidebound types would react, or how it might make that many more Muggle Parents want to keep their children as far away from the Magical World as possible, or how, given the reason for the new Bill, people might get paranoid and misinterpret a situation, but it was too late for that.

As a consequence, Neville was a frequent guest at either the Irons' or the Creevys' house. It was good for Harry to have someone his age to play with when he was in a quiet mood (Colin was a lovely boy, but a bit excitable, and there were times when Harry preferred to just sit and read. Natasja liked to think that he picked that up from her) but Natasja could have done without the glares every time Madam Longbottom came to pick him up.

* * *

Dumbledore had apparently learned better than to show up himself, or send someone who had clearly hated Harry's parents, but that didn't mean that he had stopped trying.

Harry's sixth birthday saw the arrival of a so-called 'Old Friend' of Harry's parents, who had supposedly been 'out of the country'. Harry showed that he took after his adoptive mother in more than one thing. He and Neville had been using rolling pins (spelled with cushioning charms by Henry) instead of sticks or toy swords while play-fighting when the wizard showed up. Natasja had been so busy laughing at the boys' antics that she didn't react fast enough, and the wizard managed to stun her, resulting in Neville's first bit of accidental magic.

Natasja had a hobby of collecting figurines in the shape of magical creatures. In this case, it was a figure of a Ukrainian Ironbelly, made out of actual silver that had been a wedding gift from one of Henry's old friends. When Neville accidentally animated it, it instantly flew forward and took a (very small) chunk out of the man's arm.

By that time, Harry, who had slammed his rolling pin into the man's gut (even cushioning charms failed if you hit hard and purposefully enough) when his mother collapsed, had made it to the cordless phone that Natasja had carried outside with them, and was half-way through calling his father when the intruder fell to the floor convulsing.

Henry appeared less than a minute later, with a loud _pop_ that signalled a hastier than usual Apparition. Casting a stasis charm on the man, he asked what had happened and quickly extracted the silver, before taking a closer look to see if he could recognize the man. His lips firmed in what Harry was starting to recognize as the way his parents showed annoyance, a probability reinforced when Henry cast a spell that bound the man literally head to toe in ropes.

Neville and Harry had been worriedly glued to Natasja's side, and Henry came over to revive his wife. She wouldn't be too upset that he had taken care of the intruder before taking care of her, not when Harry and Neville might have been at risk.

Well, she wasn't too upset with _him._ The intruder, on the other hand, was in boatloads of trouble.

* * *

The intruder's name, as it turned out, was Remus Lupin, one of a group of four students who had been the 'big jerks on campus', as it were, during Henry's school years. They hadn't deliberately discriminated against Muggle Born students (possibly because of the ringleaders crush on a Muggle Born girl who refused to date an 'arrogant toe-rag'), but they were all Purebloods, who tended to be somewhat condescending and rude toward the 'lower classes', even if they usually didn't mean to.

Lupin and his gang had also been counted among 'Dumbledore's Favourites', which meant that they were seldom, if ever, punished for their pranks, and tended to run unchecked. For that alone, they were not counted with Henry's favourite people, and Lupin even less so now that he had directly attacked Henry's family. Plus, Lupin's reaction to silver suggested that he was a werewolf, and while neither of the Irons' had anything against that in principle, they didn't really want him coming back to visit the next full moon.

Natasja had not attended Hogwarts, and until now, didn't know Lupin from Adam, but she didn't appreciate being stunned in front of the children, or that Lupin felt himself entitled to break and enter in the first place, just because he had known Harry's parents.

In the Wizarding World, many would try to see Lupin executed as a 'danger to society'. Neither Natasja nor Henry felt like going that far, and settled on having him arrested and charged, as they had with Dumbledore and Snape. They had no doubt that Lupin would manage to escape custody, or have someone show up with Obviation Charms or bail, but according to Henry's contacts, most 'dark' creatures supported themselves with jobs in the Muggle world, and a criminal record would make life difficult for a while.

He would probably be able to explain it away as a misunderstanding blown out of proportion, but it was the intent that counted.

* * *

Lupin had been taken away, and Natasja had just started on dinner when Neville tugged on her arm. "Mrs Irons? Do we have to tell my Gran about me using magic?"

Halfway through pulling out a mixing bowl, and cups, Natasja blinked. "Not if you don't want to, dear. But why not?"

Neville blushed, though it probably wasn't the best time for Natasja to observe how totally adorable it made him look. "Gran and the others all think that I don't have magic. I don't want having magic to make a difference in how much they love me or not."

And if that didn't just break a heart to hear. "All right, Neville. I'll leave it up to you whether to tell your family about it."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is probably going to be a bit of outrage over this chapter.
> 
> First off, the general treatment of Squibs: Argus Filch nearly goes into hysterics when he thinks Harry has discovered that he is a Squib. Mrs Weasley has a cousin who is an accountant and "[they] don't talk about him". Neville could have been killed who knows how many times, and says that his Grandmother was "so happy she was crying" when he bounced after being dropped from an upper-storey window. Note that he never said anything about his grandmother being furious with Uncle Algie, just happy that he finally showed magic.
> 
> Second, the new laws: Governments see a growing problem and try to fix it. Unfortunately, while the solution often has the occasional good points, it frequently has drawbacks that the Ministers responsible just didn't think of, whether for lack of knowledge or lack of experience. Several years ago, there was a large scandal in regards to a paedophile working in a day-care centre or school. In response, laws were put into place that severely restricted how Childcare workers were allowed to interact with their charges.
> 
> Not being allowed to touch a child more than absolutely necessary is a good thing if the carer is the one-in-several-hundred that would take advantage. The government failed to take into account that infants and children thrive on physical contact, and that if a child is screaming from a fall and a bump or bruise, or from separation anxiety, being told that a carer can't hug them and make it better is a BAD thing. The child will keep screaming until they are hoarse, and set everyone else off in the meantime.
> 
> Good intentions; not so good results.


	7. Chapter Seven

Harry Potter-Irons was a perfectly normal boy, thank you very much.

But not too normal, as 'Normal' was over-rated, and quickly translated to 'Boring', if you weren't careful to temper it with the occasional bout of impulsive eccentricity. That was what his mum said, anyway, often in a lofty tone and accompanied by a toss of her head, after a visit with her younger sister and extended family, most of whom seemed to disapprove of her.

Mum said it, and proved it through her actions (The neighbours laughed when Mrs Dursley tried to call his parents freaks, but Harry was pretty sure that no-one else's mum fought off bad guys while armed with nothing more than kitchen utensils.) so it must be true. Harry's parents taught him that very few things should be taken at face value and without question, but Natasja never said anything that she couldn't back up with action, so her word was among those few things – along with bedtime and eating your vegetables.

Natasja wasn't his real mum, but actually a distant relative. Henry wasn't his real dad, either, except for marrying Natasja. They had been the ones to adopt and raise him, however, so that was close enough, as far as both of them were concerned. She always smiled and hugged him when he presented her with whatever his class had made for Mother's Day, and never tried to stop him from calling her that, so Harry thought that she must not mind too much.

It was really good that Natasja and Henry didn't-mind occasional bouts of strangeness (even if his mum didn't entirely like the way they tended to disrupt whatever she was doing, like when the table containing all of her marking turned into a penguin), because strange things tended to happen a lot around Harry.

They happened a lot around Neville, who came to visit a lot because his family still thought he was non-magical (Neville didn't want to inform them otherwise yet), and around Colin and Dennis, who lived next door, too. No one was sure if it was related to the occasionally annoying not-quite-worship of the slightly older boy that had the Creevy brothers trying to copy everything Harry did, but his mother only closed her eyes and sighed, and the Creevys never brought it up, so it didn't matter.

* * *

Harry knew about Magic, since his father was magical, but he had sort of been hoping that he wasn't a wizard.

His first experiences with Magic (that he could recall) were a flash of green light and a high-pitched laugh, which he knew was somehow connected to the night his birth parents had died. Harry also remembered the several times that someone had appeared in their home and tried to take him away, before being disarmed or defeated with a rolling pin and no magic at all, which proved that having magic didn't make you better than everyone else, just different, like being extra-smart, or a good athlete.

He and the other boys had all begged Natasja to teach them, and she had agreed to teach them when Harry and Neville turned nine, which was their next birthday. Henry had stopped laughing when Natasja had said that he could help her teach them, as he already knew more self-defence than she did. Harry's mum would never raise a violent hand in anger against her family, and Henry could cast cushioning charms, but that didn't make Natasja any less formidable.

Then there was the time a wizard had come to inspect Harry's house for evidence of 'misuse of magic' when the magic police, Aurors, didn't believe that an ordinary woman could take down a killer on her own. The wizard had spent several hours poking around, breaking his mother's favourite vase and stressing her out before another witch showed up and told him off. Harry's mother had been near tears when the wizard finally left, and had cried when Harry's father got home and asked her if she was all right.

Harry didn't like anyone who made his mother cry.

* * *

There was still the small chance that the strange things were someone else's fault and Harry was just being 'par-an-oid', but the odd happenings pointed toward Harry being a wizard.

There was the time Harry's teacher's wig had turned blue when he tried to punish Harry for something that every other student in the class had sworn was Dudley Dursley's fault. He was worried that he would be suspended, like the teacher threatened, but Natasja and Henry had demanded either solid proof that Harry was behind the colour-change, or a hearing with the School Board before punishments were handed out. Besides, as they had pointed out, it was a science class, so the wig changing colour could easily have been the result of chemicals reacting with something.

The matter was dropped when the wig turned purple only a day later, after Colin's class had been yelled at for talking while conducting an experiment.

Then there was the time his parents had received an angry letter from the Principal after Harry had found himself on the kitchen roof after running from Dudley Dursley and his Gang. Natasja and Henry had sat him down and asked what had happened. Harry had explained as best he could, hoping that perhaps the wind had just picked him up when he tried to jump behind the bins. When he finished, his parents had exchanged a glance, before Natasja went to her study to write an equally angry letter, demanding to know why Harry would feel the need to climb a building to escape a group of bullies, especially on a supposedly-supervised playground.

The confrontation between Mr and Mrs Dursley and Harry's parents had kept the neighbourhood gossips occupied for weeks, and Dudley's gang had cut back on the bullying.

The narrow escape had been good, but otherwise, Harry just didn't see what was so great about it all. His father didn't need magic to do his job as a policeman, and his mother got along just fine. .As far as Harry's young mind could figure out, all magic did was give you a leg-up on chores and an over-inflated sense of your own sup-er-i-or-ity.

Harry liked practicing with big words. Natasja didn't care if books were '3-6' or '6-12' when Harry found a story he liked, and it was fun to watch adults squirm when they realized that Harry understood all the fancy words they were using.

Only a few weeks later, Harry and Neville ran into a like-minded little girl at a dentist appointment. Little Hermione Granger loved big words and reading even more than Harry did, and was fiendishly intelligent. She was, in Henry's words to his wife "A mini-version of you, except magnified." Natasja could not really dispute that, as Hermione had proved herself not so much a prodigy, as almost scarily dedicated to studying everything that interested her. While Natasja had been mainly interested in History and literature, Hermione had a thirst to learn everything about everything she came across. Seeing an out-of-reach book fly into Hermione's hands when she wanted it, Natasja felt a momentary stab of pity for the Hogwarts teachers. They would be in for a rough ride with this one, if her parents chose to let her go.

It was quickly stifled by the belief that a precocious Muggle Born would do the archaic institution some good, followed in turn by the temptation to set up a few play-dates between Hermione and her boys. It would do Harry, Neville and the Creevy boys some good to realize that girls were not aliens, and Hermione could use a few friends who didn't mind a strong-willed woman telling them what to do, but would also stand their ground if she got too bossy.

On second thought, maybe she would give the boys a gentle nudge, and let them bring the idea up. Few people could resist Colin's boundless energy or Dennis's current level of adorable, and the Grangers were unlikely to be any exception. Harry already liked her. Neville was still shy and slow to warm up to strangers, but being responsible for teaching someone about the magical world, and having a peer who was a near stranger stand up for him (seeing Hermione deck Piers Polkiss for teasing Neville had been the highlight of Natasja's day) would do wonders for Neville's confidence.

 

 


	8. Chapter Eight

_Rain, rain, go away…_

Why was it, Natasja wondered, that every time she didn't bother to bring an umbrella, she managed to get rained on. The weather predicted blue skies and warm weather, which was why the family had gone for a picnic in Hyde Park for Harry's birthday, only to get hit by a sun-shower on the way back to the subway. Worse still, it was Sunday, so most of the shops had closed up.

Finally spotting one that wasn't, the group of them darted in, five-year-old Denis clinging onto Henry's hand. Looking around, it turned out to be a herbalist shop, which tended to make Henry wince. There had been far too many times where there had been a mix up by the Ministry, who's higher ups tended to be incompetent enough that they couldn't tell the difference between Muggle herbalists, and Magical folk skirting the edge of the Statute of Secrecy.

Also, Herbology had never been Henry's best subject, and many of the non-magical plants looked far too much like the dangerous magical ones that he had fallen foul of in class.

He had made the mistake of telling his wife this, and while she was nice enough not to laugh _too_ much, she still looked amused every time it happened. Luckily, any smart remarks were forestalled this time when a tall, dark-skinned woman entered, a boy Harry's age following her, most likely her son or nephew. "May I help you?"

She had the hint of an accent, which Natasja tried to place as Henry shook his head. "Sorry, we just ducked in to get out of the rain. I don't suppose you can tell us where might still be open for us to buy an umbrella?"

The woman shook her head, smiling sympathetically at the bedraggled trio. "No, but I was about to put on a pot of tea, and you're welcome to wait out the weather, if you like. It doesn't look like much more than a shower."

Natasja smiled in return. "Thank you. I'm Natasja Irons, and this is my husband, Henry, and our adopted son, Harry Potter-Irons. Also Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Colin and Dennis Creevy."

The woman nodded. "Dianna Thomas, and this is my son, Dean. My daughters are out visiting relatives with my husband, so it's just us at the moment."

Dean waved up to Dennis, who requested to be put down, and the children barely waited for permission before running off to look at Dean's drawings of all kinds of monsters. With any luck, any accidental mention of magical creatures would be passed off as a particularly active imagination.

* * *

The adults, meanwhile, sat down with a cup of tea, one eye on the covered veranda. Mrs Thomas, as it turned out, was born in Argentina, but had moved here with her father and _Bruja_ mother, from whom she had inherited the shop, when she was a child. She told them this with a challenging stare, giving the impression that too many people had become friends before finding out and laughing her away as a quack.

Henry knew the feeling, as he had started to form friendships with a number of people in his first year at Hogwarts, only for many of them to drop him when they discovered that he was a Muggleborn. He was about to say something when he glanced to where the children were playing and saw a number of balls floating in mid-air, acting a lot like bumper-cars as they tried to knock each other out of the air.

Natasja started frantically trying to think of an excuse, but Mrs Thomas only sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do when he's old enough to need proper teaching. Most who claim to do magic these days are stage magicians or New Age idiots who only want to look impressive, but have no respect for the craft."

A large book shot through the cluster of balls, scattering them like nine-pins. Henry closed his eyes as Mrs Thomas raised an eyebrow. "That's new, though."

Natasja mentally cursed. It looked like certain people had been experimenting with doing accidental magic on purpose, and while they had all been told not to practise magic on their own (Natasja had caught Harry and Hermione flipping through one of Henry's Potion books, and extended it to 'magic', just in case), Neville was the only one to be actually told that it shouldn't be possible, so they had probably met with some measure of success. The Hogwarts Professors were _really_ going to have fun with this lot. "No, it isn't." she looked at her husband. "Do you want to break them up, or shall I?"

Henry shot a meaningful glance at their Hostess, who looked faintly startled that they were so calm. Deciding that as Henry knew more about it, and was better at explaining this kind of thing, Natasja stood and went out, smiling to herself as she listened to her husband. "Actually, formal schooling might not be such an issue…"

* * *

She stood just outside the door, crossed her arms, and waited. When children were deliberately disobeying, they were always on the lookout for whoever had told them not to do it, and sure enough, it only took a few minutes for Neville to spot her and let out a yelp. Everyone looked to see what had startled him, and Natasja carefully caught the ball that had accidentally shot her way, inches away from slamming into her face hard enough to break something. " _That_ is why we told you not to try anything by yourselves. What if that had been one of Dean's sisters, or if I hadn't caught it in time."

There were even worse things that could have happened, but stating personal potential consequences tended to get the message across more effectively. As expected, all six children looked horrified at the idea. Dennis immediately ran over, wrapping his arms around her leg. "We're sorry! We didn't mean to hurt anyone!"

Natasja pried him lose, patting his head. "I know you didn't, but when Uncle Henry and I tell you something, we usually have a very good reason. We told you not to play with magic unless we were there because we don't want there to be any accidents, do you understand?"

There were nods all around, but of course they didn't stay silent for long. Colin lasted all of ten seconds. "Did you see? Dean can make things fly and change colours just like we can! Isn't that so cool? Can he come and play with us sometimes?"

Dean didn't wait for her to reply. "I'll go ask Mum. She's always saying that she'll try to find someone who can teach me magic."

Harry grinned proudly. "We learn more than magic. Wait until you see what _my_ mum can do with a skillet and a rolling pin."

Oh, dear.

 

 


	9. Chapter Nine

With the kind of problems Harry would probably face, Natasja wanted him to have as much up his sleeve as possible. Mrs Thomas didn't have the training of a _Bruja_ , but she remembered some of the theory from memories of her mother, which offered a good grounding.

Dennis was also showing signs of magic, at what was usually considered an early age, which Henry and Mrs Longbottom found confusing, as his power level didn't seem higher than average. Natasja and Mrs Thomas thought that it might have something to do with the amount of magic he witnessed when visiting, and the lack of anyone telling him that half the accidental magic he did should have been impossible.

What Muggle-Borns knew of Magic was usually what little they witnessed when a Hogwarts teacher showed up, and what they read of in fantasy books, many of which had younger people performing remarkable feats at a young age, and young minds were highly impressionable for the first several years of life.

Natasja's younger sister, for example, had always managed to tell her twin older sisters apart, when even their parents had trouble, simply because no one had told her that she wasn't supposed to be able to. One of her cousins had been a dancer practically since she could stand upright, because she had somehow missed the fact that two-year-olds are meant to still have a few co-ordination issues. Natasja had been reading chapter books at age three (with help on the bigger words), because no one had told her not to.

Neville's lack of magic when he was younger, and his proficiency growing in leaps and bounds after, was almost certainly due to his family's constant insistence that he would never be as good as his father and worries about him being a Squib, followed by the consistently-voiced belief at the Irons' that he was just a slow learner. As the Boy-Who-Lived, people expected great things from Harry, and Harry tended to try very hard to live up to people's expectations.

Actually, that probably went a good way toward explaining at least a quarter of the accidental magic he had done, such as the school kitchen roof.

It had bad effects, too, however. People had called Hermione a bossy know-it-all with no friends for so long that the girl had come very close to believing that she really did know all, rather than just an intimidating degree of most things, could never be wrong, and didn't need friends. Thankfully, time spent with children her own age who really were more knowledgeable about some things had stopped that attitude before 'Insufferable' could be added to the list.

Harry _was_ better at flying (Natasja nearly had a heart-attack when Harry decided to try stunt-flying his first time on a broom), Dean _did_ know more about foreign types of magic, Neville _had_ been raised in Magic Society (whether that was a good thing was still under debate) and therefore had a deeper level of understanding, _no one_ could match Dennis for getting into places he wasn't supposed to be (precisely how a three-year-old had managed to get into an air duct was still a mystery) and Natasja actually gave serious thought to Mrs Creevy's laughing story about the nurse who was convinced Colin had been born with a camera in hand.

It had actually been that his flailing arms had knocked the camera his father had been holding into the cot just before the nurse came in, and Colin's tiny hand had been touching in, but that didn't make the story any less amusing.

* * *

Remus Lupin had visited a few more times, still trying to persuade them that Harry would need to attend Hogwarts, if only because someone in the Ministry of Magic would use his absence to proclaim Natasja and Henry unfit guardians depriving him of an education and take him away to attend Hogwarts anyway. With Dumbledore, the 'Leader of the Light' as the head of the magical equivalent of Parliament, the Wizengamot, and as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, most likely to be leading the case, or at least siding with the accusers, the Irons' didn't have that much hope of winning, even if they could claim lack of impartiality on Dumbledore's part.

Having informed Henry of this while Natasja was out of hearing range (she had commissioned a supposedly-ornamental larger version of Henry's silver Potions knife after the misunderstanding of his first visit, and Remus doubted that she wouldn't use it if he had been telling her this) Remus knew he was lucky that Henry had a policy of not shooting/hexing the messenger. Neither of the Irons' liked Dumbledore, and any news of him was greeted with scorn or outright dislike. Even the average Mountain Troll could have told you that being told that they would have to send their son to a school where Dumbledore would have almost total control over his life for nine months of the year was never going to have been received well.

Actually, Remus was surprised that Natasja hadn't yet threatened to up and move to somewhere that had a bad relationship with the Magical part of the UK. But, if she hadn't, he wasn't about to mention the idea.

As it was, Remus only hoped that the children didn't find a way to sneak rolling pins or frying pans into their school trunks. With an adoptive mother/frequent caretaker like Natasja Irons, however, it was only a matter of time.

* * *

There was another unexpected side-effect for when they told Harry about the circumstances of him probably going to Hogwarts.

Colin and Dennis were one and three years younger than the rest of the group, respectively, and thoroughly dismayed at the idea that they would be going away and leaving the Creevy brothers behind in Little Whinging. Their dismay was nearly enough to make Harry refuse to go to Hogwarts (again), until Hermione pointed out that they would probably follow them in a year or two.

Natasja considered pointing out that it might not even matter, as the first year would decide whether or not Harry would continue at Hogwarts, which would, in turn, have some bearing on whether the others stayed at Hogwarts, as they had become a fairly tight-knit group.

Neville's grandmother was so fixed on him becoming a carbon copy of his father that she would probably insist that he remain at Hogwarts, which might also affect things, as the others would not wish to leave him alone.

It was a largely useless thought, but Natasja was starting to get very sick of scenarios that boiled down to 'Wait and see', especially when it involved her son and anything to do with the Magical World.

 

 


	10. Chapter Ten

Given the incident at the zoo a few weeks ago, Natasja had honestly never expected to see the Dursleys again.

The Primary School that the children attended was having a collective trip to the zoo, where Dudley Dursley and his Gang had attempted to take Dennis's money in the reptile house. Hermione, Harry and Colin, seldom far away and then-currently visiting the boa constrictor, had intervened, somehow resulting in the glass vanishing, which in turn resulted in the snake getting loose and chasing Dudley.

Once back at the school, there had been a quiet but fierce confrontation between the sets of parents, where none of them came out very happy.

As such, Natasja had been very surprised to see Petunia Dursley on her doorstep a week before Harry's birthday, as the two women tended to avoid each other. She was even more surprised to see the state the woman was in.

Petunia was shaking, and clutching a parchment envelope, looking so upset that despite her first instinct, Natasja invited her inside, sat her town with a nice cup of tea and asked what had her so upset.

After listening to Mrs Dursley explain that a similar letter had arrived many years ago for her sister, and one had now come for her nephew, whom Petunia had never even laid eyes upon, but had recalled that Harry's birth name was Potter, that he was adopted, and that he had recently proven that he could do magic. Since Petunia wanted as little to do with 'that sort of nonsense' as possible, she had forced herself to visit to find out the truth.

The two women sat down to write a reply, saying that Harry Potter did not live with his Aunt, that she had never met him, and to please check their sources before they went around bothering decent, normal folk with their nonsense.

Natasja offered to look up the address of the school, as Petunia looked like she could use a rest. Mrs Dursley was all too glad to accept, and returned to her home, leaving Natasja to quietly pass the letter off to her husband, who would make sure that it got to Hogwarts.

* * *

A second acceptance letter to 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' had arrived, this time to the right address, but it contained very little information aside from a supply list. Natasja had sent a blistering reply, wanting to know why she would send her adopted son to a place that she knew nothing about, especially when the headmaster was guilty of child endangerment.

A somewhat indignant response came the next day, insisting that his name had been down since birth. Henry had stopped his wife from doing something regrettable, wrestled the quill out of her hand, and replied that they needed to do better than that to convince the Irons', who had, in the meantime, come up with several other potential schools that would love to have Harry as a student, prior placement or not.

* * *

Hagrid might have been loyal to Dumbledore, but in the Irons Household, that wasn't necessarily a good thing, and when he tried to curse Natasja for calling the Headmaster a 'Pot so cracked it's being held together with sticky-tape and a prayer', Henry cursed him first and called the Aurors.

They took the precaution of making Harry wear a bandana when they went shopping for school supplies, making a day of it with Neville, Dean, Mrs Thomas, the Creevy children and the Grangers. Everyone expected Harry Potter to be accompanied by a guard, not in a group of kids and parents, and they all had a good laugh over the stories Hermione found about the Boy-Who-Lived.

There had been an outburst at Longbottom Manor when they picked Neville up. Apparently, one of his extended relatives had been going on about the shame of having a Squib in the family, and Neville had thought it would serve them right to panic for a bit over the possibility, and therefore hadn't mentioned it when the letter came. As such, Mrs Longbottom hadn't known about it until the group appeared to pick Neville up.

When told about Neville's deception, Natasja had been unable to resist feigning surprise when Mrs Longbottom demanded an answer from them. "Oh, Neville's been doing some very impressive magic since he was seven. You mean you didn't know?"

No, Mrs Longbottom hadn't known, and looked ready to curse her, but Neville intervened. "Gran, I didn't tell you because you always said my parents would be ashamed of having a Squib for a son. I didn't want you to know because I wanted to see if you would be able to accept me without magic, and it didn't look like it."

His grandmother stood speechless, apparently not having ever considered the effect her loud opinions would have on her grandchild. Henry cut in before things could turn nasty. "We're going to Diagon Alley for school supplies. You can discuss this with Neville when he gets back."

The adults bought Neville his new wand as a collective early birthday present, after he mumbled something about his grandmother probably wanting him to use his father's old one, and Ollivander was very lucky that there was nothing for Natasja to conveniently throw at him when he started going on about Harry's new wand being connected to Voldemort.

Knowing that Harry would ask about it in his own time, Natasja and Henry left him in Madam Malkin's shop and went to the pet store for Harry's early birthday present. Mrs Thomas went with them, while the Grangers left to look at setting up an account in the bookstore. Natasja had the feeling that they would need it.

* * *

When Draco Malfoy asked if Harry's parents were wizards, Harry icily replied that his mother was a Muggle, and he thought that with the rising number of pureblood squibs, a proven fact from a study from one of his father's friends, that was probably a good thing. Yes, he knew Quidditch, and supported the Holyhead Harpies, because kick-ass women were awesome. Oh, and weren't the Malfoys that pureblood family who made several large charity donations right before they were cleared of being Death Eaters?

* * *

"Mum?"

Natasja looked up from mixing the ravioli filling. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry looked very troubled, more than either parent had ever seen him. "Ollivander said that my wand was the brother to Voldemort, and that we were both destined for Great Things. Does that mean I'm going to become like him?"

Natasja turned off the stove and sat down, pulling Harry close. He snuggled in, like he had done when he was still small enough to actually fit on her lap. "Everyone makes their own choices, my darling. Voldemort chose to be evil, to terrorize others. You won't become evil unless you choose to be evil, and I don't think you will."

Harry smiled. "That's what Dean and Neville said. Hermione huffed and told me not to be absurd." He quickly changed the subject. "Can I help with dinner?"

Natasja laughed. "I certainly don't think Voldemort ever held the brother rolling pin to yours, if that's what you mean. You can roll and cut out the pasta."

* * *

Arthur Weasley had managed to get the morning off so that he could accompany his family to Kings Cross and the Hogwarts Express. When Mrs Weasley's loud complaint about the station being 'packed with Muggles' was met with an equally loud remark concerning people with no grasp of secrecy and mouths bigger than their brains, he encountered the Irons' for a second time.

Mr Weasley was about to try to interrogate Mrs Irons for the second time, but she decked him before he could reach for the mobile phone she was carrying. Harry recognized him as the man who had barged into their home a little before his fifth birthday, fiddling around and breaking things, and even made his mother cry (Natasja hadn't been the only one traumatized by that day, and children could put an elephant's memory to shame, when they wanted to), and made a note to avoid the Weasley's like the plague.

* * *

When the Sorting Hat asked him what House he wanted to be in, Harry hesitated. His father had been in Slytherin and frequently said that his mother probably would have been, too, but Draco Malfoy was there, while Neville and Hermione were already in Gryffindor.

Funnily enough, he got more questions and fan-worship when people asked why he had a second last name than he did when they asked if he remembered what happened that night. If Lily Potter was famous for sacrificing herself for her son, Natasja Irons was famous for being the Muggle who took down Bellatrix LeStrange, and that was something Harry _did_ remember.

The Half-blood and Muggleborn students thought taking a witch down with cooking implements was the coolest thing ever. Neville made the mistake of saying that Natasja had taught them how, and found himself swamped with lesson requests.

* * *

Harry knew that his parents wouldn't like getting a report that he had been flying unsupervised on a rickety broom, and that given the choice between a lost rememberall and an expelled friend, Neville would probably prefer that Harry stay in Hogwarts, but Malfoy had been getting on his last nerve for days. Harry mounted a broom and flew after him.

The next morning, he received a stern letter that his mother had half a mind to refuse permission for him to play Quidditch, since he was only placed on the team after a stunt that could have seriously injured him, and when teachers told you not to do something, it was usually for a reason. However, since she didn't know the whole story, which she expected to hear about in his next letter, she would let it slide.

The letter was accompanied by a long box, containing the newest broom model and a note that they were both very proud of him for standing up for himself and his friends.

* * *

When Ron said that Hermione was a bossy know-it-all with no friends, Hermione pointed out that she had Neville, Dean and Harry, and was becoming friends with Seamus, while very few people seemed to want to be friends with Ron. Growing up without friends, it might have been a different story, but she had gained confidence from a babysitter who was proof that being a bookworm didn't mean you had to put up with being called names, and from being friends with boys who didn't mind being bossed around whenever Hermione _did_ know best.

Most Muggleborn children grew up with the Disney version of fairy tales, but Natasja refused to let ' _Cinderella'_ or _'Snow White'_ in the house, stating that no girl she had any influence over was going to grow up believing that she should sit around looking useless while waiting for a boy to rescue her. She had then placed ' _Sleeping Beauty'_ back in Hermione's overnight bag, and pulled out a copy of ' _Tatterhood'_ for story time.

Abandoning Disney in favour of ' _Janet and Tamelin', 'Kate Crackernuts', 'Three Strong Women'_ and _The Laird's Lass and the Gobha's Son'_ had taught Hermione that being a Mastermaid was much more fun than being a Rapunzel, and that being tough and doing things your way didn't make you unfeminine. Besides, unless the Hero had someone there to hold his hand or provide step-by-step instructions, he would almost certainly mess it up, and it was a lot less trouble to just do the job yourself.

Apparently, Hermione had not been the first person to get fed up with Ron's attitude, as Hermione's room-mates suddenly became a lot friendlier when she punched Ron in the nose. The fact that the boys didn't instantly leap to Ron's defence, or see anything unusual or bad about a girl fighting back, also raised their standing with the rest of the House, which was re-enforced when a Troll somehow got loose in the castle later that night.

Before she 'Officially' knew that underage students weren't allowed to practice magic at home, Natasja had convinced Henry to teach the children how to shrink and enlarge the skillet that was masquerading as a tiny charm on Hermione's bracelet. They had also learned the Feather-Light Charm, and a Troll Club wasn't that different from an oversized rolling-pin, nor did the Charm do anything to lessen the blunt-force-impact.

Despite having saved Gryffindor House, most of who were frozen in terror while they tried to think of what spell to use when they ran into the troll, Professor Snape still gave them detention for fighting the Troll instead of waiting to be splattered over the walls. Natasja's letter reassured them that he had probably just recognized Hermione's skillet as the one that had taken him down several years ago, resulting in burns, a broken wand, and a concussion.

By the way, she wasn't sure if this was the normal parchment, or the Howler-Enchanted paper, so apologies in advance.

It was the Howler-Enchanted paper.

Professor Snape was NOT happy. Harry and his friends thought that Natasja had probably 'not known' about the paper on purpose. Or at least, hadn't made a very large effort to find out if the paper wasn't going to shout the news all over the Great Hall.

* * *

When Dumbledore warned them that the Third-Floor Corridor was off-limits to anyone who didn't want to die a horrible death, Harry, Hermione, Neville and Dean were suspicious. When they got turned around one day and found a three-headed dog in said corridor, they all wrote home. Henry wrote to the other Magical Parents, while the Grangers had formed a kind of support group with other parents of Muggleborn children, and they all signed a petition which Natasja added to her letter to the school board, informing them of her intention to pull Harry out if she didn't get a satisfactory explanation.

What the explanation was, Harry never found out, but it had his mother in a blazing fury, ranting about senile old men playing chess with other people's lives, especially when saying ' _don't do this or something bad will happen'_ was practically an invitation for most schoolchildren, and the Giant Dog in the Third Floor corridor was removed.

A few months later, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor disappeared, and when his body was found, brought to the Hospital Wing while Parvati was there being treated for a Potions accident, rumours spread about him being the victim of a long-term possession.

* * *

Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup against Ravenclaw, but Harry had been accidentally rammed by one of the Ravenclaw players on the way down, shattering his left arm and necessitating a trip to the hospital wing.

The skele-gro woke him up in the middle of the night, to see his mother absent from where she had been sitting when he fell asleep, and facing off against Dumbledore, hissing at him in a quiet argument. It sounded like it wasn't the first time they had visited the topic. Actually, given the participants, it probably _wasn't_ the first time they had visited the topic.

"I would appreciate if you would stop interfering in my plans for young Mr Potter."

Natasja raised an eyebrow, looking decidedly unimpressed. "I would appreciate it if you stopped harassing my family and left Harry out of your plans. He's as much my son as if I gave birth to him, and I won't have you put him in jeopardy for your amusement."

Dumbledore glared. "I regret the necessity, but Harry must play his part, for the greater good, lest we all are doomed."

Natasja glared back. "The 'Greater Good' can go screw itself, as can you. Now, my son needs rest, so get out of here before I call Madam Pomfrey and tell her that you're upsetting her charges."

She didn't fool herself into thinking that would be the end of it, but she hadn't given in to Dumbledore the first several times he tried to persuade her against Harry's best interest, and she didn't plan to start now.

 

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Harry still had a few years to go before mixed-gender sleepovers became weird and awkward, so when a demented House-Elf popped in and started babbling nonsense, it was promptly hit with a skillet, two rolling pins and four assorted spells (the Ministry didn't bother keeping watch on a house where an adult wizard resided, and after the fiasco with Bellatrix, they chose to just keep away from anything to do with the Irons family), finally being tackled by Dennis. Alerted by the commotion, Henry and Natasja came running in, and the House Elf popped away

Colin was thrilled that he would be learning magic along with the others (and Natasja wished Hogwarts joy of the excitable but fiercely loyal child), though Dennis was more than a little dismayed that he wouldn't be going for another two years. He cheered up at the description of Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream shop and the promise of a visit when they went to get school supplies, and promises that all of them would write every week. No matter how much the School Owls glared at them for such frequent trips.

* * *

Lockhart's race to grab Harry during his book-signing session was blocked by Natasja, wearing her most protective glare. Fame or not, there was something highly distrustful about a grown man who tried to grab young boys, no matter what excuse they gave. Lockhart froze long enough for Henry to fight his way over and aim a wand at Lockhart. "Let's go. I got the books second-hand, since they're too much a waste of paper to bother buying them new, and we can come back for the rest after he's gone."

Lockhart looked insulted at the implication that he was less than God's Gift to Wizard-kind. "Are you saying you think my books are bad?"

Henry gave him a flat look. "I hope I'm not being obscure."

Lockhart huffed as Natasja stifled a giggle. "Now really, I know jealousy isn't fun, especially when you were already overshadowed by me in school, but that's no reason to be rude!"

Henry actually rolled his eyes, so uncommon a gesture that his wife wasn't the only one in the party feeling amused. "I wasn't jealous when I had to suffer through sharing a Dorm with you for seven years, and unless your body is being possessed by someone far more competent than you were back then, I have no reason to be jealous now. Stop harassing my son and leave us alone. Now."

* * *

When the caretaker's cat was petrified and a cryptic message painted on the walls, there were mixed reaction. Some, who had some idea of what the Chamber of Secrets was and the kind of Petrification the teachers were talking about wasn't just a body bind, were worried, while others, who had no idea what the fuss was about and assumed it would all blow over, shrugged it off as a Halloween prank.

Harry and his friends added a small post-script to their weekly letters, which were mostly taken up with detailed descriptions about the Death Day Party they had attended earlier that same night.

It was probably unkind, but Natasja couldn't help laughing at the idea of the victim of a botched beheading sulking about not being allowed to join the 'Headless Hunt'. As if not being properly beheaded wouldn't have been bad enough.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey had given Harry a sleeping potion to spare him the pain of Skelegrow and Floo-called his parents. She didn't want a repeat of last year, when the Irons' had heard of Harry's injuries through his friends, rather than the school, and had taken the issue to St Mungo's and the Ministry. Not everyone at the Ministry liked Dumbledore, and the only thing that saved Madam Pomfrey from a fine and an inquiry for breaking her Healer's Oath as a School Mediwitch was that Harry had been injured in a mass collision when several Ravenclaws tried to block his dive for the snitch, crashing through a chaser formation. As a result, Madam Pomfrey was still tending to the injured, and hadn't had time to call them yet.

Again, Natasja could be found sitting at Harry's bedside, while her husband was having a few pointed words with Dumbledore and Lockhart. For some reason, he had thought it a bad idea for Natasja to get involved in that.

It probably had something to do with the fact that she had been muttering about seeing how Lockhart did with missing all of the bones in his arm, if he thought it was 'nothing to worry about'. As a Muggle, Natasja wouldn't have been able to use magic to remove them, and Henry didn't want to take the chance that she would actually do it.

* * *

The Irons' parents had barely returned home before they turned around and rushed back, accompanied by the Creeveys, who had received news that Colin was in the Hospital Wing, victim of an unknown attack. Mrs Creevey gave a mildly hysterical laugh at the fact that Colin had been attempting to take a picture of his attacker, before rounding on Dumbledore and demanding to know what kind of school he thought he was running.

Realizing that he might just have another Natasja Irons on his hands, and one who didn't have a wizard husband to explain things gently (not that Henry ever tried to excuse things, but Dumbledore never managed to remain un-arrested long enough to figure that out), Dumbledore actually cringed.

* * *

In other circumstances, Harry being revealed as a Parcelmouth could have been a very bad thing. Since everyone knew that his mother was a Muggle, and his father a Muggle-Born, however, people laughed off the idea that he might be the Heir of Slytherin, and Justin managed to wait for Harry to explain what he had said to the snake before he panicked.

Henry called up his old friend again, to take another look at Harry's Genealogy and see if there was any actual connection, just in case.

Harry and Slytherin shared a common ancestor in the father of three wizards known as the Perevell Brothers, but that had been well over a millennium ago, and while the Potters were the direct line from the youngest son, Harry was one among several hundred descendants, Magical and Muggle, which meant that no one could really complain or throw accusations without doing a detailed check of their own family tree, first.

Henry's friend had sent flowers and a nice card, thanking them for the increase in business.

* * *

Prior experiences with Valentine's Day had run something along the lines of a collective sleepover under a babysitter, while each set of parents went to a fancy restaurant, a play, a night out, or something similar, and the exchange of friendship Valentine's Day cards.

Walking into the Great Hall to see it practically dyed pink, with hearts and confetti everywhere, had never been among those experiences. The receptionist at the Grangers' dental practice had tried putting up banners once, along with a box of sugar-free, heart-shaped lollipops when she first started working there. She had received a particularly disdainful comment of 'tacky' from her employers and a request to remove it. Now.

* * *

Finding out that Hermione had been Petrified had scared the Grangers, and brought them racing to Hogwarts. Having heard how much success Natasja had with her rolling pin, Michelle Granger took it further, and brought along several of her oral surgery tools. A detailed explanation of exactly what they did (when the School Governors tried to protest at Muggles being allowed in Hogwarts, even if it was their only child who had been Petrified), made several Purebloods turn pale and become _very_ polite all of a sudden, while Muggle-Borns and a few Half-Bloods tried to hide their giggles.

The only thing that stopped them from withdrawing the children all together were the facts that while the cure would not be available for a few months, it was being made, and that Dumbledore was removed as Headmaster.

* * *

Before she had been Petrified, Hermione had been working on what could have Petrified Colin. She had been Petrified on her way to the library to check to be certain. She had thought it was a basilisk, and that it had been using the pipes to get around the school.

Harry had written home, explaining Hermione's theory, the accompanying evidence (the gaze of a basilisk was fatal, but Hermione had been found with a mirror, and Colin had seen it through his camera), and exactly what a basilisk was. After Natasja managed to calm down from the discovery that a giant snake that literally killed on sight was slithering around a school of children, she went to spread the news among the other parents and draw up a removal letter. Henry had got in touch with some Aurors, muttering darkly about a thirteen-year-old being smarter than an entire school of teachers, and called up some old acquaintances who might be interested in tutoring.

Locating a map of the pipe layout, finding the entrances, and stuffing about a dozen roosters in each took a day or so, and there were one or two complaints about not being able to hear yourself think over the cacophony of crowing (greeted with incredulous stares, because what was a few days noise compared to getting rid of the monster that had been terrorizing the school?), but it paid off.

A week after Henry had contacted the Aurors, there had been a final attack, resulting in two Petrified Aurors (who had been equipped with special goggles and a rooster in a cage) and one dead, sixty-foot-long basilisk.

Upon seeing it, the Irons', Grangers', Creeveys' and Thomas' turned right around, handed the letters to Professor McGonagall, who was filling in for Dumbledore, then marched to the Hospital Wing and informed Madam Pomfrey that she could deliver the Mandrake Potion to the Creeveys and the Grangers when it was ready, because none of their children would not be at Hogwarts when the sun set.

* * *

Mrs Longbottom did not find out until a few days later, but when she did, everyone was a bit surprised. _Everyone_ knew that Madam Augusta Longbottom was a Traditionalist, and had been dead-set on her grandson following in his parent's footsteps at Hogwarts.

The Irons' ran into the formidable Matriarch after receiving a letter from Dumbledore, who had been reinstated as Headmaster, requesting a meeting. They had no intention of allowing Harry to remain in Hogwarts, of course, but looked forward to the chance to give Dumbledore a piece of their mind. They arrived, only to discover that Madam Longbottom had beaten them to it.

She was gripping her wand, which sparked dangerously as she shouted at Dumbledore, informing him in no uncertain terms that while he might have only been a teacher the last time the Chamber was opened (and everyone knew that Dippet was a senile old fruitcake), he should have investigated the matter as soon as he became Headmaster, or at least re-opened the case after the first attack. She didn't care how long Hogwarts had stood as one of the best Magic Schools in Europe, Neville wasn't staying another night.

It was probably the only time Dumbledore had, or would ever, look happy to see Natasja and Henry.

* * *

"But you see, Harry must remain at Hogwarts. It truly is the best place for him, especially now."

Most of the time, Henry let his wife do the talking, preferring to act while the culprit was busy trying to defend themselves from Natasja's cutting tongue, but this time, he spoke first, in very wintery tones. "And just what do you mean by that, Headmaster? Last year there were rumours of Possession, and you were keeping a Cerberus in the school. This year it was a basilisk, and it was pure luck that no-one died. Why would you ever think that we would allow our children to stay here? What possible reason can you give that Hogwarts is a good place for Harry?"

Dumbledore started to give an enigmatic, grandfatherly sigh, but quickly changed his mind when he caught Natasja's murderous expression. He pulled out a small, black diary. "A First-Year student was writing in this, and tells me that a Mr Tom Riddle would write back to her."

Henry's flat look told him to get on with it, or they were leaving. "Tom Riddle is the birth-name of Lord Voldemort. I have long believed that Lord Voldemort was only hiding, not dead. It is inevitable that he will return, and Harry is the one who must defeat him."

Henry actually snarled under his breath. "And it took you eleven years to even start doing something about this 'inevitable return'? I will not allow you to throw my son to the sharks, instead of leaving it to people who are older, more experienced, and actually paid to deal with things like this!"

Natasja's eyes were like steel – as in, the sharpened steel edge of a blade. " _If_ Voldemort returns, we'll go from there. In the meantime, I'd like to keep my son alive, which he probably won't be if he stays at this school. Our decision to withdraw Harry remains, and if you try to change it, we will have you charged with harassment. I don't know about the Wizarding world, but the Muggle one takes a very dim view of old men who take an unhealthy interest in young boys entirely unconnected to him."

Dumbledore didn't respond to that. "Since you seem to be dictating terms, what do you plan to have done with the girl who was writing in the diary, and who Tom used as a vessel?"

Henry and Natasja exchanged glances. It had been foolish, and the girl should have known better than to keep it a secret, but she had most likely been through enough and didn't deserve to have her life ruined for a mistake.

Natasja knew from experience that parents could get unreasonable when their children were hurt. She tended to stop people before they could hurt Harry, but when she was three, an older child had pushed her out of the way to get to a play slide. They had accidentally knocked her off the play structure, fracturing her neck, and while Natasja didn't remember all of the details, she remembered how furious her father had been, actually reducing the child's mother to tears as they waited for the ambulance.

Finally, Natasja sighed. "A formal apology to those who were attacked by the basilisk, and a public apology to the school in general. Let her say that she is sorry for not coming forward, but believed it to have been no more than a simple diary. That can be the end of it."

Henry nodded in agreement and took his wife's hand. "Come on, Nat. We have an appointment to interview tutors for the kids."

 

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Remus Lupin had been considered as a tutor for the children, but had been forced to turn it down, as he had been offered a post teaching at Hogwarts, which everyone thought was probably a move intended to coax Harry back. Bribing him with an old school-friend of his parents and possible knowledge of his family history was considered a very low blow, and useless, as Lupin had told or written most of those stories already, and a few of Harry's friends at Hogwarts were the children of people who had known the Potters, and sent stories and photos of their own.

Ultimately, several of Henry's Squib or Muggle-Born friends or acquaintances were contacted as tutors in different subjects. At least one of them agreed because of how much of a poke in the eye it would be to have Squibs teaching the famed Boy-Who-Lived, but as long as they did a good job and meant no harm, the Irons' didn't really care about the motivation of the teachers.

* * *

When the news announced that a deadly criminal named Sirius Black had escaped, and Remus Lupin quietly told them that Black had been a friend of the Potters, ultimately responsible for betraying them, the household went on alert.

Henry, who has less-than-favourable memories of Black from their school days, nevertheless thought that Black would never have betrayed the Potters, who were closer to Black than his own family. Even so, they started brainstorming sensible precautions to take.

'Sensible Precautions' immediately dismissed the Ministry's idea, which was to station Dementors, literally-soul-sucking creatures that made you re-live your worst memories, around Hogwarts, in the belief that Black would go there searching for Harry. The Ministry had managed to keep Harry's withdrawal out of the papers, and Natasja dryly commented that they should think about opening their own school, as mass-murderers and Dementors were hardly a good first introduction for impressionable eleven-year-olds who would be starting their First-Year at Hogwarts.

* * *

Henry Irons was a policeman, and the force stuck by each other. Henry was married to the adopted mother of a little boy that many of the force had fond memories of, and whose parents had been Black's first victims. Officially, they couldn't do much. Unofficially, they started investigating.

The odd thing was: there was no record or transcript of Black ever receiving a trial in the Muggle or in the Magical world and that suggested that something funny was going on. Also funny was the fact that thirteen people were supposed to have been killed, but they only found twelve badly damaged bodies and an extra finger. The finger was was found largely unmarked, and the rest of the body was nowhere to be seen. In an explosion big enough to blast people down to appendages, you would certainly expect to find a few more pieces than a finger, especially with twelve other mostly-intact bodies.

As Henry's CO had pointed out, they were cops, and they had to know.

* * *

Sirius didn't quite dodge the frying pan that flew toward him, but he was quicker than anticipated, and managed to move fast enough that he only got a clip on the ear, rather than being laid out, as had been the original intention. Then again, being an escaped convict probably inspired some very quick reflexes.

Sirius slowly raised his hands, trying to simultaneously keep his eyes on Natasja's cooking pot, Henry's wand, and the several children forming a barricade around Harry. He looked ready to laugh at the sight of Colin menacing him with a rolling pin, but changed his mind when Hermione raised her skillet in a threatening manner. Wizards were a bit less dismissive of a woman's ability to injure you. Wands were a pretty effective gender-equalizer. "Is this a good time to proclaim my innocence?"

Henry didn't lower his wand. "We already know that you didn't get a trial, but talk fast, or I let my wife drop you where you stand."

Black looked faintly confused. Most people threatened severe bodily harm or death by their own hand. Arthur Weasley was the only person Sirius knew who threatened people with his wife, and Natasja was fairly unassuming in appearance, and her thrown frying pan was smooth enough to have been mistaken for an accident. Brunettes were hardly as famed for their temper as redheads were, either, and anyone who experienced a Molly Weasley Howler, even as an innocent bystander (the Prewett brothers had received several from their little sister) was wary of the woman. "Um, your wife is a Muggle."

Neville glared. Being partially raised by said Muggle, in the company of Hermione, had made him a bit more open-minded than most purebloods. "A Muggle who took down Bellatrix LeStrange with a baking sheet. Besides, there's nothing wrong with a girl who can defend herself and doesn't need magic to fight!"

Black looked faintly impressed, stared, and quickly recovered. "Anyway: I'm innocent, James and Lily were under the Fidelius Charm, but we switched Secret Keepers. I was the decoy. The real Secret Keeper faked his death, and everyone was too busy celebrating to bother with the legalities."

Natasja glared. "So why are you here? Madam Bones dropped by to warn us, and she said you had been muttering about someone being 'at Hogwarts'. This isn't Hogwarts, and Dumbledore managed to keep Harry being withdrawn out of the papers."

Black grimaced. "I failed in my duties as godfather before and I wanted to see that Harry was safe and well before I went to hunt down the Traitor." He paused. "Wait, you withdrew Harry from Hogwarts?"

Natasja frowned, not quite satisfied with the answer, and ignored the question. "Yes, and we're not putting him back. So why break out now? What stopped you from finding the traitor before?"

Black sighed. "I didn't know where Harry was, until I heard one of the guards talking about him. He had a boy at Hogwarts, apparently, and heard from him. Until a few weeks ago, I didn't know where Pettigrew was, either, or if he was even alive."

Henry's eyes narrowed. Pettigrew was the fourth member of Black's little gang, and one of the people Black was supposed to have killed. "Does that mean you know where he is now?"

Black nodded, pulling out a newspaper clipping. It showed the Weasley family, which caused Natasja to automatically growl under her breath. Hermione wrinkled her nose, disgusted at seeing a rat crawling all over Ron. Henry gave Sirius a flat look. "So the traitor is who?"

Black pointed. "The rat. You see how he is missing a toe, and I'd recognize him anywhere."

Natasja was about to take that as proof that Black's brains had been scrambled while he was in Azkaban, but Henry made a living from noticing details and using them to find answers. "You can't mean you – no, actually I'm not surprised that you'd go that far for a friend. I suppose he cut it off himself and transformed or Apparated away? That part had everyone a bit stumped."

This was news to everyone, and totally incomprehensible to everyone except Sirius and Henry, so a quick explanation was in order, after which Natasja sighed. "Alright. Kids, you have homework to finish, and don't let me catch you listening at the keyhole. Black, the shower is that way, and I think we still have a box of old clothes in the attic. Henry, grab the Sergeant and Madam Bones, we might as well get this over with."

Sirius looked more than a bit nervous. "What part of 'I Broke Out Of Prison To Catch The Traitor' did you miss? It's going to be kind of hard if the head of the DMLE takes me down on sight!"

Natasja looked smug. "The Ministry knows better than to use magic in my house by now, and the Muggle police have been quietly investigating since they discovered that a 'Dangerous Criminal' never received a trial."

* * *

The Chief might have been the reason that Harry's second string of words had been 'Drop your weapons!', which Natasja had NOT been happy about, but he was also a good man who was fair if it killed him. A few words in several of the right ears set the wheels in motion for a trial, while Henry helped Sirius 'Muggle-ize' a statement and article for every media outlet that would accept it. When half of the U.K. was shouting about injustice and writing indignant letters pressing for a trial, it wasn't too hard to get one in the Muggle World, which meant that the Muggle Government could demand answers from the Magical one if and when Sirius was pronounced innocent.

Natasja's knowledge of Latin was rusty, and her grasp of legal procedure practically corroded, but the fact that _habeas corpus_ and over ten years of illegal imprisonment got Sirius off in a matter of days said a lot, as far as she was concerned.

* * *

After the general embarrassment on the part of the Ministry of Magic, who had to scramble to explain themselves to the Prime Minister (and, rumour had it, the Queen), who was very upset that the country had been up in arms over someone who had spent twelve years wrongly imprisoned because the Magical World had forgotten to give him a trial, Sirius started to get his life back in order.

Other than his three female cousins, and their offspring, Sirius was the last living member of his family, and had asked permission from the Irons' to make Harry his 'Heir-Presumptive', in order to avoid the estate passing into the hands of those who had supported the Dark Lord that Harry had supposedly defeated.

They had agreed, and only temporarily regretted it when Dumbledore grabbed the chance to try and get custody of Harry transferred to Sirius as Harry's Godfather, under the presumption that Sirius would be so grateful that he, like most of the Wizarding World, wouldn't question Dumbledore's plans. Unlike a certain uppity Muggle women and her Muggle-Born husband, who should have left Magical matters to Dumbledore's self-proclaimed wisdom.

Fortunately for all concerned, Sirius, like most wizards who encountered Harry or the Irons', had a healthy respect for the contents of Natasja's kitchen, and was less than inclined to help the person who, as Chief Warlock, was responsible for making sure he got a trial in the first place. He also had the sense to focus on what was best for Harry, as he currently had no habitable residence, and asked what they had to say about the situation.

If Sirius had tried to claim custody, the Irons' would have taken him down as hard as they did anyone who threatened their family. As it was, they got hold of a solicitor and worked out an agreement where Harry would visit Sirius one weekend a month, and other days by arrangement.

Dumbledore was not pleased. The other concerned parties did not care.

* * *

They had to go to the Ministry to officially take the end-of-year Exams, but that wasn't too much of a hassle, and it turned out that they actually scored better than most of the Hogwarts population, which became a widely known fact when the non-Hogwarts children wrote to their friends, who they had kept in touch with, to compare scores.

The Ministry tried to play this down by admitting that keeping the Dementors around had been a mistake, and had affected the scores, but several people put it down to having competent Care of Magical Creatures, Divination and History of Magic Professors, as well as exposure to Muggle Culture and a Potions teacher who actually taught, rather than just writing down instructions and glaring at you, calling you incompetent and a dunderhead if you dared to ask for help or further explanations.

It seemed like Natasja's prediction of the tutors gaining several more students might be more accurate than she had originally joked, as the tutors had received several letters from other parents, inquiring about costs and if they were open to more students.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, chapter twelve and Third-Year are up. It's shorter than the others, mainly because without Quidditch, Hogsmeade, Trelawney and Escaped Convicts, there wasn't as much for me to put in. On another note, was I the only one who thought it was weird that NO-ONE noticed that if a finger is found, there should also be other body parts or entrails lying around, and if not, there is something suspicious going on? Unless they were Obliviated, the Muggle Forensic Specialists must have noticed. Gas explosions char, but they don't vaporize.
> 
> Another question is why Dumbledore, as head of the Wizengamot, didn't make sure Sirius got a trial, anyway. There is a legal precedent that if a person is imprisoned past a certain time without charges being officially pressed and brought before a judge, they HAVE to be set free. You'd think that they would give him a trial purely because of that. James and Sirius were described by McGonagall as "exceptionally bright, in fact", so why did no-one consider that Sirius as Secret Keeper was too bloody obvious? Investigators are supposed to look into every possibility, no matter how far-fetched it seems at first.
> 
> A celebration is not an excuse for everyone falling down on the job. Even Hitler's top people were tracked down and given fair trials after WWII, so why didn't they do the same to Voldemort's "Right-Hand Man", even just to question him as to Lord Voldemort's other followers and hideouts. A little thing called Veritaserum, people.
> 
> Also, why didn't Dumbledore hire Lupin earlier, like instead of Lockhart? In PoA, before we found out about the DADA curse, it made a certain amount of sense to have the last living person to have really known Sirius in Hogwarts as an added precaution, though since Lupin didn't say anything about the map or Sirius being an Animagus, that didn't do much. This time, since Dumbledore wasn't letting go without a fight


	13. Chapter Thirteen

One good thing about Hogwarts had been Quidditch, so Sirius, Henry and Natasja didn't see the harm in purchasing tickets to the World Cup as a collective Birthday Present. Natasja would never understand why or how Magical folk (or the non-magical population, come to think of it – it looked like some things really _did_ transcend all barriers) could be so obsessed with a sport, but at least it wasn't Quadpot.

* * *

The problem with Muggle-Repelling charms was that they could be bypassed if you had someone who wasn't affected grab on tight and drag a Muggle past said wards. Natasja was sure that she had looked more than a bit ridiculous when Henry simply picked her up, flipped her over his shoulder and calmly walked through when she tried to leave, convinced that she had forgotten something important. Sirius, floating the Grangers through, was certainly laughing hard enough to leave that impression.

* * *

No one was laughing after the match, when some people had celebrated a bit too hard and started what the Ministry called 'Muggle-Baiting', but Henry and Natasja called 'abuse, humiliation and assault of the most despicable kind'. Several of the Wizards probably later called it (when they regained consciousness) 'a quick path to concussions and broken bones'.

Well, on the bright side, at least one or more of them wouldn't be passing such views onto any potential future children. Henry didn't appreciate wizards who tried to make his wife part of the 'show'.

* * *

Lessons resumed in September, and everything was more or less quiet (magic was involved, so there was always a few explosions now and then), until Halloween, when a worried Hogwarts Professor showed up with the news that Harry had been entered into a contest of some kind and his presence was required at Hogwarts.

Understandably, both parents absolutely refused to let the Professor simply take him. Instead, they called Madam Bones and Sirius, left Hermione in charge, and gave Professor McGonagall the option of letting them accompany Harry, or going back empty-handed.

Muttering something in Gaelic that Natasja was pretty sure were swearwords, the Transfiguration Professor agreed, summoning what she called the Knight Bus. The 'conductor' didn't inspire confidence, and there were times that Natasja hated being right.

When they reached Hogwarts, Snape looked ready to start a rant about Harry and 'Potters who thought they were above the rules'. The Heads of the other schools (Professor McGonagall had filled them in on the way, in between hanging on for dear life) looked ready to demand why Hogwarts should get to have two champions.

Natasja cut them all off with a demand to know how her son's name had been drawn when he hadn't even been at Hogwarts this year or last, and the only time he had left Surry was on an overnight trip to London to see a play for Hermione's birthday.

The other School Heads, at least, paused at that, agreeing that it was suspicious, but Dumbledore and the other Tournament officials merely insisted that it was a binding contract and Harry would have to compete. One of the officials cringed at the glare Natasja levelled at him, while Henry asked what would happen if Harry didn't compete.

Apparently, whoever had created the tournament had been stupid enough to create a magical contract without setting a penalty, so no-one had any idea if it would do nothing, or kill Harry for not competing.

Madam Bones, upon arrival, was not happy, either, though that may have had something to do with the fact that she had arrived just as Natasja had been demanding answers to if this could happen to anyone else, and what was to stop it just picking a random student.

Susan Bones was a student at Hogwarts, and Madam Bones's niece, so she had been less than pleased at the possibility. She promised to investigate, but until then, it looked like Harry would be competing in the Triwizard Tournament, with the very clear understanding that if his life hadn't been potentially threatened, he wouldn't be within a ten mile radius of Hogwarts, and he certainly wasn't staying there in between tasks

When they returned home, Sirius started giving Harry and the others lessons involving a number of nasty curses that were borderline legal, and designed to make sure that the user was the one who walked off a battlefield, and Henry started teaching his adoptive son the kind of fighting that all police officers learned.

* * *

Hagrid had been chased out of the house at fresh-from-the-stove-skillet-point when he came to 'quietly warn them' that the first task Harry would be facing involved getting an egg away from a nesting mother dragon.

It had been Sirius's opinion that the organizers were clearly insane, as they should have learned their lesson. If a Muggle woman could take down Dumbledore and Bellatrix LeStrange in defence of her children, how would a dragon react if their eggs were threatened? He then joined the Irons' and Harry's friends in researching ways to get past Dragons.

* * *

The solution was to Summon a chunk of dry ice the size of a semi-lorry from where it had been placed outside the stadium immediately prior to Harry's turn, and banish it at the dragon. Dragons were reptilian and just as susceptible to the cold as their smaller relatives. The desired and most likely effect was that the dragon would become sluggish enough for Harry to get past without too much damage.

It worked, though there was a fair bit of disgruntled muttering about using Muggle equipment and such simple spells.

Harry bluntly informed them that he was Fourteen, at that level of spell work, and if they didn't like it, they could always disqualify him. Natasja had been very pleased and proud of him, and not just for his performance in the Task.

* * *

She was not so pleased when she was abducted while shopping in February, and woke up to find herself in the middle of the Hogwarts lake, with a worried Harry dragging her to sure, snarling about where the wizards could 'shove their bloody stupid Tournament' and seeing how they could explain their way out of this one.

Natasja would like to know the same thing, and would have liked to see how Dumbledore – a so-called Champion of Muggles and Minority Groups – dealt with the public finding out that he had abducted and deliberately endangered a Muggle.

* * *

Barty Crouch Jr., fresh from trapping and kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived, had faced a lot in his life. He had revelled and suffered as a Death Eater, spent a mercifully short time in Azkaban, followed by over a decade trapped under the Imperius Curse by his own father.

Somehow, the Muggle woman threatening him with a frying pan as she demanded to know what he had done with the Potter boy was even scarier than the Dark Lord in a bad mood. Worse yet, she was fixing him with the 'Mother Look', and the small part of him that would always be Victoria Crouch's son snapped to attention, blurting out the Graveyard in Little Hangleton.

He comforted himself with the knowledge that the woman he would maintain to the end he was NOT intimidated by and her Mudblood husband would almost certainly be too late to save the boy, and if they weren't, then the Dark Lord could have the pleasure of killing them himself.

He was unaware of two very important facts, however. One, that even a sheep can drive off a predator in defence of their young. Two, Natasja Irons was a lot more dangerous and resourceful than a mere sheep.

* * *

A curse hit the statue of an angel, breaking off part of the sword it held. It landed next to where Harry, who picked it up. It was roughly the shape of Henry's baton and about the same weight of the marble rolling pin that his mother kept around in case of Hostile and Unexpected magical company. He knew how to use both of those items, with or without his wand.

Voldemort was taunting him, but his father had said that a good copper lets the culprit talk, gets what information he can, and waits for the right moment to strike. Also, if you manage to get yourself in a situation where you're looking down the business end of a lethal weapon ("and be prepared to explain how you got in that situation in the first place to your mother and I, young man"), hope that you're facing an evil and/or twisted opponent, because evil and/or twisted people can't resist launching into monologue, which gives your partner or backup time to get there.

Voldemort was, in fact, going into a monologue about how it was unthinkable that a mere boy could defeat him and how he could never be killed, as he prowled among the gravestones. Harry listened carefully, trying to measure how far away the footsteps were. Did that mean that he had found a way of keeping alive? Ah, there!

"Come out, Harry Potter…" The self-styled Lord Voldemort held his arm and wand straight out in front of him. He was stalking the boy who had defied him and been the cause of his original downfall. Use of Legimency on Lucius Malfoy showed that attempts to attack or capture the boy in his home had been rebuffed by some kind of protection, though the effects seemed unlike any ward he had seen. No matter; the boy was not in his home, and stood no hope of – ARGH!

A length of very solid marble came down on his wand arm as Harry Potter leaped out from behind the nearest gravestone. The loathsome boy reversed his makeshift weapon and hit Voldemort in his other arm, breaking it. "That's Harry Potter-Irons, thank you very much."

This coincided with a loud ' _CLANG'_ and a louder spell as two of his Death Eaters fell, revealing a blond man and a dark-haired woman. The woman was holding, of all things, a cast iron skillet. "I strongly recommend getting away from my son, before I rip your heart out and serve it with mayonnaise."

Did the woman even know who she was talking to? "How dare you speak to me like that? Who are you?"

By this time, the Potter boy had managed to sneak around to the pair, who were obviously suicidal if they thought they stood a chance against his Death Eaters. Oddly, however, said Death Eaters seemed strangely reluctant to attack them. The man took the opportunity to take down a few more Death Eaters as the woman smirked. "Natasja Irons. I'm Harry's mother."

Who had let the Boy-Who-Lived be adopted or fostered by a Muggle? In a few seconds, it wouldn't matter anyway. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

The jet of green light was deflected away by the polished metal, hitting Avery. The last thing Voldemort saw was the three of them disappearing by Portkey, and a skillet accelerating toward his head. It was closely followed by a steel kebab skewer, aimed somewhat lower, at an area that truly should be outlawed as a target.

He would bet that no other Dark Lord or Lady in history had to put up with a nemesis who kept acquiring mothers with a gift for demolishing evil plots! If they had, they should have had the common decency to leave a bloody warning note for their successors!

An angry stream of black smoke escaped the graveyard, planning something dire and painful for the woman who had just replaced Dumbledore near the top of his 'People To Kill' list.

* * *

When parents and child returned to Hogwarts, they didn't stay to answer questions (Madam Bones already had Crouch, Jr. in her formidable clutches, anyway), only informed Dumbledore and Fudge that they would be having words in the very near future, and headed straight home.

Under other circumstances, Harry would have protested that he was too old to be tucked in, but not tonight. He had no conscious memory of the night his birth-parents were killed, when Lily Potter had given her life to save his, but the sight of the Killing Curse aimed at his adopted mother, who had loved, cared for and raised him, would haunt his dreams for a long time.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The Ministry of Magic did not like people who spoke their minds, unless they were saying how wonderful the Ministry was, in which case they were probably practising lying with a straight face. They didn't even like people who considered speaking their minds, regardless of whether or not they actually ended up doing so.

The Ministry of Magic especially did not like the Muggleborn Wizard and his Muggle wife for having full custody over the Boy-Who-Lived, refusing to let the Ministry so much as talk to him without what they considered a good reason, and for ' _stealing the best and brightest of their generation away from Hogwarts'._

They had ignored the multiple suggestions of perhaps looking at what was wrong with Hogwarts that would make so many of the best and brightest leave in the first place, or that the highest marks tended to be achieved by Muggleborns or Half-Bloods, who didn't plan to coast through life on a family name.

When the Irons' pointed out that since Harry was underage and they were his legal guardians, requests had to go through them, and so far the Ministry of Magic hadn't given then reason enough to allow it, there was much outraged spluttering, but no real reply. The charge of 'stealing student' they left for the parents of said students to answer, as they had withdrawn their children for varied reasons, the latest of which being the Goblet of Fire fiasco, where an underage child had been entered against his will, and later kidnapped from the school grounds.

For some reason, the Ministry of Magic did not think that was a valid excuse for taking their children away from Hogwarts, and were now trying to save face by taking Harry away to be raised by a 'Proper Magical Family', which everyone correctly interpreted as 'Ancient And Preferably Rich Ministry Stooge Who Won't Let Him Near His Real Family Again'.

The Ministry might be used to people rolling over and doing as they were told, but the Irons' had never operated like that, and didn't intend to start now.

Terry Boot and Hannah Abbott had parents in the Ministry's 'Family Department', and had also recently been withdrawn from Hogwarts. Anthony Goldstein was a Pureblood, and had asked Hermione out over the summer, during an outing to help the non-Muggle-raised students adjust to the Muggle world. His parents also owned a law firm, and Hermione was happy at the idea of dating an intelligent boy who was not practically her brother.

The Ministry of Magic had tried to use the media, and received an irate letter from the Queen, who had taken to reading the Wizard paper after the incident at the World Cup last year, had previously had words with the Ministry about how throwing children out of windows was NOT an acceptable method of testing for magic, and wanted to know about their laws on defamation of character. Her Majesty also wanted to know why, if the Irons' were so unsuitable, was something only being done now, when Harry had been with them with no complaints for the past fourteen years.

Aside from the allegiance owed to her as the Queen of England, Elizabeth II was a formidable lady, and the news articles quickly stopped.

* * *

Also over the summer, Harry, Natasja and Henry had taken a day to themselves and cornered Dumbledore. As 'Leader of the Light' during Voldemort's first attempt to take over, they reasoned that he probably knew what were the best ways to fight him now, and a number of other things that might be helpful.

Given the way his brother Aberforth grinned and gave them exact directions, fraternal sentiment was very thin. Either way, Dumbledore agreed to come over for tea and a chat. Harry wondered if he could make 'chat' sound so ominous if he practiced, or if it was a mother thing. No matter what else, he agreed that they did need whatever knowledge Dumbledore could give them.

Loose lips might sink ships, but with-held information cause devastation.

* * *

The announcement that Voldemort had kept himself alive by using Horcruxes (a fact gained by smearing veritaserum on the edge of the teacups – Dumbledore had only checked the tea and teapot for charms or potions) had been met with some very creative swearing and Henry leaving early to contact several top researchers who had been rejected from the Ministry for being Squibs or Muggle-born.

The announcement that Dumbledore believed Harry to be the seventh Horcrux, and that he would have to die for Voldemort to be defeated (a fact gained when Dumbledore realized that Veritaserum meant that he would be telling them anyway, and might as well give up the rest of the secret now) had been met with a well-aimed punch and the old man being very firmly ejected from the house.

* * *

Madam Bones, upon being told of what Dumbledore knew or guessed at or had found out, looked up a few curse-breakers and a freelance exorcist. Mrs Thomas made a few calls to some of her mother's old Bruja and Brujo friends and their students, thinking that non-conventional magic might have a few hints on alternative methods of Dark Lord Destruction that didn't involve Harry dying.

Harry, who had been listening quietly until that point, suggested a medical procedure to stop his heart long enough for him to be declared technically dead, and then re-start it.

It took several hours of arguing (and a very long lecture on how casual self-sacrifice might be nice in books, but not so much in real life) before his mother reluctantly accepted it as a very, very, very last resort that would happen over her not-quite-but-almost-dead body.

His father took even longer to convince (and only after another, just as long, lecture about valuing life and not taking things at face value, especially from senile, manipulative old headmasters). Both parents still favoured the suggested approach of finding the Horcruxes, destroying them, and bludgeoning Voldemort over the head until his spirit made a break for it, before trapping said spirit in the body of a cockroach.

The suggestion had come from one of Mrs Thomas's contacts, who pointed out that cockroaches couldn't hold a wand, and even a talking cockroach would have the short lifespan of insects to which the general reaction was to lunge for a handy shoe or the bug-killing spray.

* * *

The Ministry of Magic, led by a toad-like woman by the name of Delores Umbridge, was still trying to get custody of Harry away from the Irons', but had somehow overlooked the fact that the Black Family was older than most, that the default Head of the family was Harry's Godfather, and that Sirius's immediate ancestors had entire books of blackmail material on just about everyone.

It had been a low blow to point out that the Weasleys were already a large family, ill-suited to support another child, but they were also very staunch Dumbledore supporters, and would probably follow any instruction he gave. After Dumbledore's forced confession about Horcruxes, the Irons' were even less inclined than usual to trust Dumbledore or anyone associated with him.

Madam Bones had also applied as a back-up plan (with the unofficial understanding that if she was successful, Harry would spend a night or so every week at her house for the form of things, and the rest of the time at his own home. Susan certainly didn't mind.), and since any objections to her taking custody also applied to most of the rest of the potential 'Ministry Approved' families (and Sirius had blackmail on the rest), the attempts to take Harry away also finally stopped.

* * *

It had been a good and fairly impressive plan to try to lure Harry to the Department of Mysteries with a vision of Henry and Natasja being captured and tortured, but it failed after Voldemort had failed to take several things into account.

He could possibly be forgiven, however, as the things he failed to consider were the power of Mobile Phones (not a widespread invention in the seventies and eighties), the fact that he had sent the vision on Movie Night, when Harry's parents were making popcorn a few rooms away, and the presence of several friends who sat on Harry to stop him from rushing off while they thoroughly questioned the two adults as to their identity, just in case.

* * *

Madam Bones went to the Department of Mysteries the next day, retrieved the object in question, and brought it back to the Irons' house.

After several caustic remarks about self-fulfilling prophecies and people who put too much stock in the subjective ramblings that might not even come true for centuries (a Japanese Sorcerer had made a prophecy that a certain family would rise to power, which they did… five hundred years later, and after three hundred years of that half-millennium was spent in disgrace), Sirius asked how anyone knew that the Prophecy hadn't been fulfilled on Halloween 1981.

The conversation was repeated to Dumbledore very deliberately in the hearing range of Snape, who _everyone_ knew was a spy, though opinions disagreed on who he was spying for, and the matter was sheepishly dropped, though no-one knew what Voldemort thought of it, and Snape wasn't reporting anything.

* * *

The day Lord Voldemort decided to announce his return by appearing in front of half the Ministry (looking even more snake-like than Harry's description of the night in the graveyard) was also the day Sirius was going through some old family possessions, while attempting to transform the lower levels of Grimmauld Place into a semi-school, and discovered a locket that sent the dark magic detectors literally through the roof.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though, does no-one else think that there were so many possible ways to get rid of the Horcruxes without killing Harry, or how much better/easier it would have been if Dumbledore had mentioned their existence to a few other people, rather than leaving the Trio to blunder about for an entire year?
> 
> Also, doesn't anyone else think that the Blacks would have had some kind of blackmail, bribe or favour owed from pretty much every other dark-side family? The Malfoys bribed most of the Ministry, though Bellatrix was probably more inclined to terrorize people into doing what she said, and all of the Pureblood families are connected in some way or another.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The Irons Parents refused to let their children out of lessons for a year or more while they hunted for Horcruxes, and were backed up in the decision by the other parents. However, they were not above compromise, and acknowledged that being adults did not make them infallible, and that the children might have ideas or spot things that they had missed. As a result, as long as the students kept up their standard of schoolwork, they would be kept up-to-date by the adults.

Hannah Abbott's mother was a researcher, and Terry Boot's father was a University Professor who specialized in recent history. Working with the friends and contacts called in by Henry and Mrs Thomas, it worked well enough.

* * *

Much experimentation proved little aside from the fact that Horcruxes were bloody near-impossible to destroy. Even a special dispensation from Amelia Bones, authorizing an Auror by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt (a former classmate of Henry's) to use lethal force, only proved that even Avada Kedavra was only able to weaken it, as you needed to destroy not only the soul, but also the object, which had nearly as many enchantments on it as Hogwarts.

The rather ugly locket that Sirius had found had been confirmed as a Horcrux by the Dark Magic Detectors going haywire, and by the Black Family House Elf, who had started sobbing about failing 'Good Master Regulus', who had been a Death Eater, but openly turned traitor and tried to destroy the Horcrux.

After three very awkward hours trying to comfort both Elf and Master (Sirius had been close to his brother before the House Rivalries and atmosphere at Hogwarts, and Regulus not standing up against his family, had forced them apart), they got down to business again.

Magical means had failed, and while a goblin-made weapon might help, no-one wanted to take the risk of the soul fragment latching onto the almost-indestructible weapon instead, so they moved on to exploring Muggle Means.

As it turned out, even Horcruxes were not up to surviving an extended visit to an industrial-sized blast-furnace after being hit with a killing curse for good measure.

* * *

Unfortunately, the locket that was all that remained of Slytherin's line was also the only one that didn't have some very nasty surprises protecting it, and they were forced to put aside their hostilities with Dumbledore, who had also been looking, and had found a ring at the shack that Voldemort's maternal ancestors had once called home. He had managed to confine the withering curse to one hand, but apparently even St Mungo's best had been unable to break it, and advised him to have his will made out and properly filed within twelve months.

A friend of Mrs Thomas, a Voodoo witch, had stemmed the worst of it by sending most of the parasitic curse into one of the potted plants that Dumbledore had kept in his office, but even she couldn't break it entirely, and abandoned trying in favour of working on a way to locate the remaining Horcruxes that didn't involve a year-long camping or road trip.

Mrs Thomas's mother and one of Henry's friends also got involved, joined on weekends by the children, and the trio managed to cook up something that took the magical signature of the diary that had once possessed Ginny Weasley and followed it to where the remaining soul jars were located.

Two were located in Malfoy Manor, which they unfortunately couldn't storm until they got rid of the dozen or so that Mr Malfoy had managed to bribe or blackmail into protecting him. Presuming that one of the signatures was Voldemort himself, they also had no intention of getting into an all-out battle until they were rid of the other Horcruxes first.

One of the Horcruxes was in the Gringotts Vault of Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort's right-hand witch, certified psycho, and Sirius's cousin. After about half an hour of remaining prudently quiet while Madam Bones snarled about getting the Wizengamot to allow inspection of the Vaults of those serving extensive Azkaban sentences, especially if the conviction involved Dark Magic, Sirius suggested looking at Bellatrix's marriage settlement (common among pureblood families) and seeing if there was a legal way to let him into the Vault to collect the Horcrux.

As Sirius wasn't a LeStrange, there wasn't, but the fact that Rodolphus was serving a lifetime prison sentence was enough to claim a Breach Of Contract, according to the Goldstein's, the price for which was the token amount of one item from the LeStrange Vault.

The Blacks either thought it unlikely that the settlement would be breached, didn't think the LeStrange's would have anything of interest, or were just desperate to get Bellatrix off of their hands and make her Someone Else's Problem (Sirius's theory), that no-one had specified which item. As Head of the Black Family, Sirius had been allowed to walk into the Vault, with a goblin guard to make sure he didn't take more than one item, and remove the Horcrux.

That was three Horcruxes down, and the remaining four were the two at Malfoy Manor, one at Hogwarts, and Harry.

* * *

The one at Hogwarts turned out to be a very pretty diadem, though it took a lot of effort to find.

Dumbledore and Madam Bones questioned every person living at Hogwarts, down to the House Elves and Centaurs, but came to a dead end before one of Henry's friends brought in a research acquaintance from Uganda, who asked if they had questioned those _not_ living at Hogwarts yet.

Mrs Thomas took care of that with a carrot-and-stick approach, enlisting the assistance of a Ministry Historian, who promised that the ghosts would be recognized and remembered for their help, and an exorcist, who promised something a bit more permanent if they chose not to co-operate.

Perhaps the most disconcerting discovery, even above the diadem, was that there really _was_ a betting pool for everything. The pot for whether or not the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron (House ghosts for Ravenclaw and Slytherin, respectively) had ever been in a relationship was very significant by now, and won by Lavender Brown, who had apparently been a sucker for tawdry romance, and the only one to bet in favour of the pairing.

The Grey Lady had been known as Helena Ravenclaw in her life, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Hogwarts Founders. Jealous of her mother's fame, and upset at the constant, unfavourable, comparisons between them, Rowena had stolen the diadem in the hopes of becoming less of a disappointment in the knowledge department.

Centuries later, she had been taken in by a boy with a silver tongue, Tom Riddle, who 'befouled' it and hid it away, reinforcing the ghostly woman's distrust of anything even slightly male.

They eventually found it, however, after taking the students on the pretence of a day-trip and scouring what Sirius termed 'the Butterbeer Room', but most referred to as the 'Room of Requirement'.

Again, no amount of knowledge stood up to the pressure and seven-hundred-plus degree heat of the furnace.

Meanwhile, no-one had been able to find a means of extracting the Horcrux from Harry, so they very, very reluctantly began looking into various forms of medically induced death.

* * *

Extensive research (led by Hermione while Harry's parents were still refusing to so much as consider the idea), suggested the circulatory arrest, used in brain and heart surgeries, was the best way to go. Figuratively speaking, at least.

It involved lowering the body temperature to eighteen degrees, stopping the heart and lungs, draining blood, and using drugs to stop the brain. It could be maintained for up to an hour before causing damage, and had a high success rate.

According to Dumbledore, who had witnessed Voldemort trying to flee a vessel five years ago, the Dark Lord's shade would most likely abandon its host within a few moments of death, and given what they knew of Voldemort's nature, he wouldn't think twice about killing someone if it was convenient, and wouldn't take the chance that his opponents wouldn't do the same.

With the Ministry currently in Royal Disfavour, and Voldemort quickly becoming a National Problem, a few of the country's top surgeons were contacted, swore an Official Secrets Oath, and performed the procedure. There had been a few complaints about how the surgeons had never met such impossible parents, but that was ignored.

* * *

Amelia Bones had told her Aurors and Hit-Wizards to prepare for a battle, but being aware of the rampant Ministry Corruption, had been smart enough not to mention further details, so the Death Eaters had little time to prepare or react (or bribe their way into immunity) when they stormed Malfoy Manor.

Most Death Eaters saw Muggles as little more than bait or cannon fodder, and were extremely contemptuous of those who used Muggle Weapons, regardless of whether or not said user was Magical or Muggle. As such, they tended to ignore them in favour of focussing on the witches or wizards who were paid good money to shoot dangerous spells at them.

While this opinion might be true under most circumstances, the Muggle in question had been capable of taking down Bellatrix LeStrange (and was currently holding her own in Round Two), and had been taking lessons in physical defence for several years. Policemen preferred to find non-violent solutions whenever possible, but were perfectly capable of using lethal force when totally necessary. Henry was no exception.

Aurors as a whole also preferred not to curse whenever possible, but the chance that they would be fighting Dark Witches or Wizards was a risk they took when they accepted their badge.

The mostly-not-quite-of-age children who followed the fighters at a distance before charging in did not have such an advanced knowledge of spells, but made up for it by alternating between Magical and Muggle methods of combat. Several Death Eaters had come up against the effective use of a skillet and assorted kitchen utensils when Voldemort had been resurrected, but hadn't really learned from the experience.

A good whack to the head took them down, and while the boys had yet to manage to stop themselves from cringing in sympathy, the girls had no problem with a good kick between the legs to ensure that even if a fellow Death Eater did revive them, they were still in no condition to re-join the fight. Dark Magic or not, some pain pathways were impossible to ignore.

Neville and Hannah managed to off a very large snake that was apparently the sixth Horcrux, and that left Voldemort.

The Dark Lord was an excellent dueller, proving a match for those who could pull themselves together long enough to actually fight him. Harry thought it was a bit cliché for him to be defeated in the age old manner of Major Villains, but there was something to be said for the value of a mob (as long as they all knew what they were doing) charging a single wizard _en masse_. As Susan had said: " _It might be Quality vs. Quantity, but Quantity has a Quality of its own."_

The fact that he had been presented with the ultimatum of his friends charging Voldemort and holding him down while Harry finished the job, or tackling Harry and sitting on him while the adults took care of it, may or may not have had something to do with that.

With all of his Horcruxes destroyed, and a body that was essentially a magical construct weakened from repeated multiple ' _finite incantium'_ s, all Voldemort had was his admittedly impressive fighting skills and a lot of power.

Harry had more than that, namely friends who served from love and devotion, rather than fear, and a willingness to accept people who were different. Voldemort's movements became a lot less smooth when several large pins were stuck in the major limb junctions of a Voodoo doll crafted to resemble him, and after that, all it took was one lucky, well-aimed ' _Reducto!'_

One Auror complained that it had been very anti-climactic, but shut up when he was bluntly informed that if he was so disappointed in the end result, he was welcome to try and bring Voldemort back to face him personally.

Dawlish decided that dramatic fights were over-rated anyhow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is very little resemblance to Canon Book Six in this chapter, but aside from Quidditch, Following Malfoy and the Chest Monster, very little actually happened in Half-Blood Prince, so I had to work in my own. I'm not very good at writing battle scenes, so apologies about that.
> 
> To those who were complaining about a lack of Harry, Book Five was the point where anyone sane would expect the adults to actually start doing things. In Canon, they sat around uselessly, and Harry was forced to take things into his own hands. In this fic, there are responsible and rational adults who care about Harry and aren't going to hide behind prophecy in order to shirk responsibility.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

he celebrations after Voldemort's demise were a bit lacking when the Boy-Who-Lived refused to attend most of the grander parties, as did his family and friends, but the excitement wasn't fully over.

As far as the doctors could tell, Valerie Irons had been conceived some point during the week following the defeat of the Dark Lord.

The announcement was not the best Birthday Present Harry received, though he did not suffer from jealousy. Instead, the cause of his upset was the discovery that his parents had not, in fact, stopped having sex just because they had him. Complaining to his friends had led to a few sympathetic pats on the back, a very forward kiss from Susan, and Dean (who had living proof of the fact in his three younger sisters) telling him to suck it up.

* * *

It is a historically proven fact (according to Hermione, who had been reading up on it in between Horcrux research) that in times of great change, you need to move quickly to consolidate your position if you want to have any say in the changes that take place.

Neville, Susan and Harry, all of who came of age that summer, had hereditary places on the Wizengamot, and while no one was sure how Fudge had come to be proxy for the Potter seat, but that stopped right away.

One of the things the Wizengamot did was oversee trials, and few people really wanted to upset the Man-Who-Won (which Harry hated even more that 'the Boy Who Lived'), so there was much less bribery this time, and a lot more examination of evidence, and calling in Mind-Healers to check for residue of the Imperious Curse whenever someone tried to claim that as a defence.

None of the children planned on a life of politics, except possibly Hermione, but they recognized that the world wasn't going to fix itself, and expecting other people to do it for them was what had got the Wizarding World in its current mess to begin with.

* * *

What had started as a bit of Home-School, had escalated to a not-quite-school that took place in a magically renovated warehouse, as the student numbers grew.

Finally catching on to the fact that if it kept up, Hogwarts wouldn't have anyone left to teach, and were already becoming a bit of a joke, several frantic School Governors visited to try and figure out what was being done wrong.

Hogwarts was closed for the next year while the Governors reviewed teaching methods and the curriculum, added a few much-needed classes like an introduction to the magical world, and an updated mandatory Muggle Studies (which drastically cut down on the annual number of Obliviations) for first-years.

The teachers had to prove that they actually knew how to teach, and were actually competent in their subject.

Professor Trelawney's wailing gave everyone a two-day headache, Professor Binns didn't even notice when they moved the History of Magic classroom and introduced a new teacher, and Professor Snape was re-introduced to Natasja's skillet when he came to blame the Irons' for his new unemployment.

If it came to Dumbledore as Headmaster of Hogwarts, or a Hogwarts empty of students, the School Governors decided that it was time to take a closer look at the mountains of formal complaints that Snape's classes had inspired, and were not pleased with their findings.

They couldn't just kick Dumbledore out, as their own negligence had played a significant part in the deteriorating quality of education, but they could make sure that the Department of Education actually knew what was going on, and received regular reports, rather than only after the End of Year Exam period to let them know about the marks and which students had responded to their acceptance letters.

It wasn't perfect, but no system is.

* * *

Natasja and Henry were not exactly pleased when they found a letter on the table, informing them that Harry and Susan were eloping to Las Vegas so that they could get married without the media circus that would undoubtedly happen if they tried to get married in the UK, but they understood. They settled for telling Hermione, who promptly dragged the original group (plus Anthony, Padma Patil and Hannah, who were dating Hermione, Dean and Neville, respectively) to Vegas after them, then rescuing the nearly-weds and guilting the happy couple into letting them hold a belated reception for family and friends when they returned to England.

It could have been worse, as at least it wasn't the shotgun wedding between Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown that took place later in the year.

It was also one of the very few times that Hermione decided to be willingly spontaneous, though Anthony's promise of a Honeymoon that included a trip to what remained of the Library of Alexandria and the newly-discovered ruins that might have been the original, may have had something to do with it.

* * *

Much to several people's disappointment, Harry flatly refused to name any of his children after either set of his parents, an example followed by most of his friends. As the children of the Boy Who Lived, and several other prominent figures from the Second War against Voldemort, as well as the grandchildren of several Heroes of the First War, they would have enough to live up to, without everyone comparing them to the ghost whose name they shared.

He wasn't above using them as middle names, as proven by Sarah Lily, Benjamin Henry and Ryan James, or Hermione's youngest, Beatrice Natasja, but first names were out.

Several of their children did complain about their names, as all people do at some point, but were mostly relieved, as a significant portion of their classmates were named some variant of 'Harry'. Sarah's class had three Harrisons, two Henrys, five Harriettas, two Harolds and eight Harrys.

* * *

Finding a tiny boy wandering in the middle of a wintery night, after being abandoned in a basket, sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and in another world the fairy tale would have ended with an epic battle and everything staying the same as they all lived happily ever after.

But Happiness, like all emotions, is a strange and flowing thing, and 'Living Happily Ever After' only works in a bedtime story before the child is old enough to question.

In this story, a family stood together through everything, people trusted their friends and asked questions and accepted help. There were trials, and sorrows, and life wasn't perfect.

But they did live, and they were happy, and that is all that one can reasonably ask for.

THE END

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be just a one-shot bit of silliness and was originally written under a pen-name, so I didn't bother putting the usual amount of effort into my OC's name. By the time my inbox blew up with people demanding more, it would have been confusing to go back and change it.
> 
> So to answer the inevitable questions about similarities with my AO3 pen-name... Yes, the Main OC is named after me.


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